Murder in the Mix Box Set
Addison Moore
Murder in the Mix (Books 7-9)
Addison Moore
Contents
Bloodbaths and Banana Cake
Book Description
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Acknowledgments
New York Cheesecake Chaos
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Acknowledgments
Lethal Lemon Bars
Book Description
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Books by Addison Moore
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Bloodbaths and Banana Cake
Murder in the Mix Mystery #7
Addison Moore
Copyright © 2018 by Addison Moore
This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to peoples either living or deceased is purely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are figments of the author’s imagination. The author holds all rights to this work. It is illegal to reproduce this novel without written expressed consent from the author herself.
All Rights Reserved.
This eBook is for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this eBook with another person, please purchase any additional copies for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Copyright © 2018 by Addison Moore
Created with Vellum
Book Description
My name is Lottie Lemon, and I see dead pets. On occasion I see a once upon a human, too, but mostly it’s just cute little furry beasts who have come back from the other side to warn me of their previous owner’s impending doom.
It turns out, everything I thought I knew about my relationship with the man of my dreams was a lie, so when I’m asked to cater sweet treats to a party honoring a very important judge, of course, I dive right in to get my mind off of things. But when I set up the dessert buffet and spot the ghost of a girl I was accused of killing just last month, I realize this night isn’t going to go off without a homicide in its giddy-up. Try as I might to stop it, another murder strikes our community, and not only am I determined to solve this crime, but I’m determined to heal my broken heart, too. In both cases, it seems I’ve bitten off far more cookie than I can chew.
Lottie Lemon has a brand new bakery to tend to, a budding romance with perhaps one too many suitors, and she has the supernatural ability to see dead pets—which are always harbingers for ominous things to come. Throw in the occasional ghost of the human variety, a string of murders, and her insatiable thirst for justice, and you’ll have more chaos than you know what to do with.
Living in the small town of Honey Hollow can be murder.
Chapter 1
I see dead people. Mostly I see dead pets, but on the rare occasion I do see a dearly departed of the human variety, but right now I see a very alive, very beautiful woman claiming to be my boyfriend’s wife.
“I’m sorry.” I shake my head, a silly smile floating to my lips. “I’m afraid you have the wrong Noah Fox. This one’s not married.” A flash of heat powers through me, and as much as I want to feel a surge of relief from the words that just spewed from my lips, I strangely don’t feel an ounce of anything even remotely close to it.
The strawberry blonde before me lifts a well-sculpted brow as if amused by my reaction. Her long hair hovers over one eye, giving her a seductive glamorous look. She has full, pouty lips that most women would take to the needle for, her fitted coat and patent heels offer her a big city appeal, and suddenly I wish this woman, whoever she is, would have stayed just about anywhere but Honey Hollow, Vermont. Certainly, I wish she would have stayed out of my bakery.
Everett steps up next to me, looking every bit the official judge he is. His commanding presence makes everyone offer him, in the least, a modicum of respect, and this woman is no different.
“Lemon, I think it’s best we let Noah handle this.”
I look to Everett, surprised at the calm, casual way he was able to dispense each word.
The blonde perks to life as she looks toward the walkaway that leads into the Honey Pot Diner, the hometown café that’s connected to the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery through a cutout in the wall.
“Well, speak of the devil.” Her lips pull back into a wicked grin, her eyes brighten at the sight of him, and it suddenly feels as if I’ve slipped and fallen into a rabbit hole.
“Noah?” I take a blind step toward the man I love, the one I’ve given my heart and my body to. Noah Corbin Fox and I met about six months ago, and after a rocky start quickly made up for lost time with one another in every spectacular way. Only at the moment, things don’t feel too spectacular. “This woman says she’s your wife. Tell me that’s not true.” A thought hits me like a ton of bricks, and that surge of relief I’ve been craving washes over me like a tidal wave. “Is this your ex-wife?”
Noah stops short of me, his eyes pinned to the buxom blonde, and I can’t help but note a touch of horror in them.
“Lottie, I can explain.” He shakes his head as he steps in closer. “Britney? What the hell are you doing here?”
A husky laugh belts from her as if she were enjoying the show before she turns her attention my way. “Is this your inamorata? You’ve traded me in for a girl? The town baker? You never cease to amuse me.” She bites down on a cherry red lip, and a fireball of embarrassment rips through me.
“Noah?” My voice breaks, and I hate it betrayed me. “Please tell me this isn’t happening.” I look right into those evergreen eyes of his. Noah is tall, muscular, with dark wavy hair and a face that makes every woman take note of his magnificence in a three-mile radius. It’s felt like a dream to be with someone who’s not only shockingly handsome but shockingly wonderful all the way around—except for the tiny detail about his wife. That’s not panning out to be all that wonderful.
Noah takes a breath that expires in a sigh, his shoulders sagging as he looks to the woman before us.
Keelie and my sister, Lainey, stride up behind him.
Keelie is my bubbly blonde best friend whom I’ve known since birth, and a part of me is glad both La
iney and Keelie are here to witness the spectacle because Lord knows I never want to repeat it.
“What’s going on?” Keelie demands, and Everett shakes his head her way. “Don’t you tell me no,” she’s quick to scold him. “Lottie?” Her voice hikes to fighting mad levels. “Why does it look as if there’s a hostage situation brewing?”
The blonde, Britney, laughs. “No hostages here. My husband is just surprised to see me, that’s all.” She blinks a smile my way. “And apparently, his girlfriend is, too.” The room grows cold by ten degrees at least. “A realtor friend of mine let me know there was an opening down the street, and I thought this might be the perfect place to expand my franchise.” She casts a side-eye to Keelie. “I own a string of Swift Cycle workout gyms, and I’m always looking to expand.” She takes a bold step closer to Noah and glides her finger brazenly down his tie. “And now that I’m in town, I’m hoping to win back my husband.” She gives his tie a quick tug and it looks intimate, as if she’s done it a million times, and I can’t stop the tears from blurring my vision. “We’ve been through better and through worse. Now I think it’s time to put the past behind us and focus on rebuilding our family. You have my heart, Noah Corbin Fox, and you have it forever. I’m staying at the bed and breakfast at the edge of town, and I have Toby with me.” She flexes a wicked smile as if to say I’ve got you now.
“You have Toby?” Noah takes a step toward the door as if he were ready to find this Toby person right this minute.
I bet it’s her sleazy boyfriend. From what he’s told me in the past, she was cheating on him and he lost his job because he discharged his weapon at the guy’s car. Unless, of course, that was all a lie, sort of the way Noah and I were all a lie.
“He’s staying with me,” she purrs it out as if it were somehow meant to entice Noah, and I’m back to being confused. “We’ll have breakfast tomorrow and sort everything out.” She tips her head, and a curtain of strawberry blonde hair falls over his chest. Just the sight makes me sick to my stomach. “Unless you’d like to have a nightcap at my place. Second floor, third door to the right.” Her finger glides over his lips. “It will be just like old times.” She heads for the exit and steals all of the oxygen out of the room right along with her.
“Holy heck.” Keelie takes a step toward Noah and pokes him in the chest. “You’ve got some serious explaining to do, mister.”
“Noah?” My voice comes out less than a whisper as he steps my way.
Everett gives him a firm shove to the chest. “Let me guess. You didn’t tell Lemon the truth because it slipped your mind?”
My adrenaline finally kicks in. A painful knot the size of a blueberry muffin clogs my throat.
Noah looks to me with his sad eyes pleading for me to understand, but I don’t. I don’t understand any of it.
“Lottie, I’d like to speak with you alone.”
“No.” The word bullets from me without my permission. “How could you keep this from me?”
“I wasn’t trying to keep it from you. Believe me, I’m trying to fix this.”
“Well, you just made it worse.” I speed to the back, jump into my car, and race all the way home so I can weep all night long.
And I do just that.
* * *
“Banana cake?” Everett asks as the wind does its best to blow us both over.
It’s the first Saturday night in March, and truly the month has come in like a lion with its windy tail on fire.
Everett leans into the bakery van he gifted me a few months back as a means to thank me for getting him off the hook of a murder investigation in which he was the prime suspect. I was well on my way to winning a refrigerated van just like this, but the killer was at hand, and I chose the path with the least amount of pie filling. But I digress. Standing before me is the dashing and honorable man who not only gifted me the van but landed me the baking gig I’m about to storm with a truckload of goodies.
That horrible night at the bakery comes back to me. It’s been five days since the maleficence. Wait, that’s not quite the word. The melee? The outright carnage that ripped out my heart. That’s better.
It’s been five days of Lainey, Keelie, and yes, Everett all trying to help me Scotch Tape my tattered heart back together in haste. But alas, it was to no avail. It’s shattered to shards, and quite frankly, I don’t think it’s worth salvaging.
Noah isn’t my first ugly breakup. There was Otis Bear Fisher who was the first to burst my heart open like a piñata. Then there was the New York catastrophe, Curt in Manhattan whom I shared a very brief engagement followed by an explosive breakup. Curt tossed my heart in the air before taking a baseball bat to it and hitting a homer—after which I ironically ran all the way back to Honey Hollow and fell right into the arms of my first true love, baking.
As for Noah, I haven’t returned his calls, texts, or even bothered to open the door when he came a knockin’. I need space to think things through before I can even hear what he has to say—beyond what I already know. To make things worse, I’ve had to witness The Coffee Cake Break get gutted by a construction crew yesterday. It was the coffee shop that Greer Giles and her friends, Nikki Spencer—who wasn’t Nikki Spencer at all come to find out—and Tinsley Shields, opened up last month. Once Greer was murdered, the place went down the toilet. And after Nikki skipped town, Tinsley gave the key back to the landlord—who in the mother of all ironies might just pan out to be me in the long run, but that’s another story altogether, which involves the death of a woman named Nell Sawyer whom I thought was just a dear friend but turns out was my biological grandmother—actually, aunt if you want to get technical. It also involves the reveal of my biological mother and the fact that I was left half of Honey Hollow and a beach house in Nantucket in Nell Sawyer’s will. The entire legal document is currently being contested by my new uncle William whom I’m pretty sure hates me to the bone.
But I digress.
Essex Everett Baxter, Judge Baxter to some, stands tall and vexingly handsome before me, his cobalt blue eyes piercing right into mine. He’s shockingly gorgeous and oozes an unfair amount of testosterone, thus holding the ovaries of every woman in Vermont hostage to his devilish whims. He hardly smiles or shows an ounce of emotion, and I swear on all that is holy it just makes the girls swoon that much harder. When we met, he asked me to call him Everett, as does everyone else with the exception of his exes. They’ve all graduated to referring to him by his proper moniker, Essex. I’ve always said it’s a parting gift he gives them, and I stand by my claim. Everett is a notorious womanizer, and I do mean that in the nicest way. We met last fall when my old landlords took me to small claims court, and he made the wise decision to side with me. We’ve been friends ever since. I may or may not have a propensity to drag him into the homicide investigations that have been thrust my way. And by thrust my way, I mean the ones that I blindly stumble into—by way of a body. It’s been a hectic and somewhat hellish past six months to say the least.
“Banana cake.” I nod, assuring him that I came twelve boxes strong with the fruity dessert. “You did say that was Judge Shumaker’s favorite.”
Yesterday, I gave Everett the seemingly innocent task of asking Judge Shumaker what his favorite dessert was, and soon enough regretted it when I realized I would need to purchase every banana I could get my hands on to whip up enough banana muffins to serve up the masses that are bound to show up tonight.
Everett is throwing Judge Sterling Shumaker a farewell party here at Heritage Hall in Ashford, just across from the courthouse in which they work. It’s gorgeous in this part of Ashford, with its expansive, rolling green lawns tucked among the buildings. A huge fountain sits in the park across the street, backlit with a blue light that gives it an ethereal glow.
Everett kindly requested that the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery cater all the baked goods for the event, and I was more than glad to oblige him. His friend, Judge Shumaker, was chosen for the district court down in Burlington, which, come to f
ind out, he needed a presidential nomination as well as senate confirmation to fill the seat. Everett made it sound like no big deal, but it is much more than a big deal.
It turns out, Everett should have been up for the position but was turned down due to his questionable dalliances—i.e., the questionable places I’ve dragged him to in an effort to track down killers of every shape and size.
I’m not sure I can ever forgive myself for costing him such a big career move, even if Everett insists he doesn’t care.
“It sure is his favorite, Lemon.” Everett has a propensity of calling me by my surname, and I’ve always thought it was adorable and lends a certain amount of respect between us so I’ve never protested the fact. “Banana cake reigns supreme with Judge Shumaker. He was emphatic about it.” Everett takes ahold of a stack of boxes filled with treats for tonight’s elegant soiree.
