Devil's Food Cake Doom, Page 2

  “Funny,” I say, looking at my phone again. “Maybe we should call it a day.”

  “Are you kidding? We still have hours of daylight. I’ve got news for you. I’m not letting you drag me up here every weekend until Lemon’s party. I say let Mack and Cressida hammer out the details today. One and done. I’m not putting Lemon through this one more time. As soon as they pick out a couple of swatches, I’m handing it over to Bear.”

  I can’t help but shake my head at the mention of his name.

  Otis Bear Fisher is one of Lottie’s exes. He just so happens to be the go-to contractor in Honey Hollow and gave us a good deal on the renovations for the lodge.

  I grunt at the thought of this not getting done in time.

  “Let’s just hope Bear doesn’t spill it to Keelie,” I say. “Once Keelie finds out, the party won’t be much of a surprise.”

  Keelie Turner is Lottie’s best friend, and she happens to be engaged to Bear. Not only are they getting married this summer, but they’ll be ushering a baby into the world before fall. Bear agreed that we should keep things from Keelie as well.

  My phone pings, as does Everett’s.

  “I hope it’s her,” I say, glancing to my screen and instantly filling with disappointment. “It’s Lily.” I blow out a breath before reading the text out loud. “Noah, where’s Lottie? She said she’d close the bakery. I’m supposed to be getting ready for a hot date with Miles.”

  Miles Rock, aka Seven, is the wall of muscles Everett and I hired to shadow Lottie last month. Apparently, Lily has taken a liking to him. And good on her—considering the fact my brother, Alex, was openly two-timing her.

  Everett holds up his phone. “She said the same here. She wants to know if we’ve heard from Lottie.” His cold eyes meet with mine, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say there was more than a smidge of worry in them.

  “I’ll contact Carlotta,” I say.

  “I’ll talk to Miranda.”

  We take off a few paces in the opposite direction, only to meet up less than two minutes later.

  I shake my head at him. “Carlotta said she’s on her way over to the house to check things out. She’ll let me know how Lottie’s doing once she gets there.”

  Carlotta is Lottie’s birth mother, the one that left her on the floor of the Honey Hollow Fire Department a little over twenty-five years ago. They reconnected last winter. Carlotta is a character, and Lottie is more than gracious with her. Miranda Lemon is the woman who raised Lottie as her own. She’s a widow who happens to be seeing my twisted father.

  Everett growls down at his phone. “Miranda said she’ll ask Lainey and Meg if they’ve heard anything.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m not sure how much faith I have in her sisters right now. I want you to get a patrol car over there, stat. I’ll tell the girls we’re buttoning things up and heading back.”

  “I think it’s too soon to call for help. Lottie might be taking a bath for all we know,” I say just as my phone buzzes in my hand again. It’s another text from Carlotta, so I hold the phone out and read it. “Back at the house. No sign of Lot. Her car is in the garage.” Those last few words come out strangled as I look to Everett. “She’s in trouble.”

  He gives me a hard shove to the shoulder. “You still think it’s too soon to call for help?” Everett starts barking out orders at Cormack and Cressida, but I don’t move a muscle as the blood in my veins turns to ice.

  The woman I love more than my own life is in danger, and if anything happens to her, I will never forgive myself.

  I put in a call to the Ashford Sheriff’s Department and shout for every free vehicle they have to head to Honey Hollow.

  I’m coming to find you, Lottie.

  And I won’t rest until you’re safe in my arms—right where you belong.

  Everett

  “Lemon,” I growl into my phone. “If you get this, call me. We’re worried sick. Noah and I are headed back to Honey Hollow.” A deep breath expels from my lungs. “I love you. Stay safe.” I hang up in haste before texting Seven and asking if he’s got a bead on her.

  “We’re going to find her,” Noah says it measured as he runs a stale yellow light, his foot leaning heavier on the accelerator by the second.

  “I’m going to find her,” I correct him.

  “No, I’m going to find her. That’s my job,” he growls right back. “I’ve got the gun and the badge, remember?”

  “I don’t need a gun or a badge. I’m bringing her home.”

  “Fine. We’re working together. The important thing is we get Lottie home safe where she belongs.”

  “Sounds good.” I stare vacantly out the window as we head back into Honey Hollow. “Maybe she took a walk?” My God, what I wouldn’t give for her to be out on a simple walk.

  Noah grunts at the thought, “It’s snowing—just this side of a blizzard in the event you haven’t noticed. She’s not taking a walk.” He winces. “Maybe she went to take the trash out and she slipped? The last step off the back porch has a tendency to ice up.” He slams his hand against the steering wheel. “I knew I should have taken care of that. I’ll get some deicer so it doesn’t happen again.”

  “Forget the deicer. I’m having the stairs rebuilt.”

  Noah shakes his head, a dry laugh pumping through him. “You’ve always got to one-up me, don’t you?”

  “Yes, well, I’ve learned the hard way that with you around, I need to watch my back.”

  He blows out a hard breath. “And there it is. All roads lead to your grudge. They say some people never get over high school, and I guess you’re one of them.”

  “I got over high school, Noah. I never got over the fact I couldn’t trust you.”

  And that is the cold, hard truth.

  We ride in silence until we pull into Lemon’s driveway in haste.

  I don’t bother to wait until he puts the truck into park before I jump out and head up the porch.

  The door is unlocked, so I head on in to find Carlotta on the couch with the remote in her hand.

  “What’s going on?” She follows after me as I head into Lemon’s bedroom. “Where do you think she went?”

  “I don’t know.” I pull open the dresser drawer at the top and riffle through the pastel puddle of panties just as Noah bullets into the room. “It’s here,” I say as my eyes meet with his. “She didn’t take her gun.”

  “Ethel’s here?” Carlotta strides forward and takes a look herself.

  Ethel is the nickname Lemon gifted the Glock that Noah and I bought her.

  Carlotta scoffs and hums, “Well, I feel better already.”

  Noah shakes his head. “I don’t.”

  A knock erupts at the door and the three of us head out to find a handful of deputies. Noah lets them in just as Seven pulls up, and soon enough we’re having a chaotic meeting of the minds as to where Lemon could have gone. The first thing we do is try to track her phone, but the last place it registered was right here at the house.

  Ten voices shout up over one another, trying to speak at once, when something across the street at Noah’s house catches my attention.

  “The surveillance video,” I blurt it out, and within a second Noah pulls out his phone.

  Noah pants as he pulls up the app he needs and keys himself into the system.

  He blows out a quick breath. “I’ll rewind it to the point when I walked her across the street this morning.” He holds out the phone for us to see.

  We watch as Noah kisses Lemon goodbye and heads back to his truck and takes off.

  “Speed it up,” I say and Noah does just that. “Whoa.” I point over to the hood of a dark car appearing in the lower left corner as if it were about to pull into Lemon’s driveway and Noah slows the feed down again. There looks to be a dent just near the hood on the driver’s side.

  Noah leans forward, not taking his eyes off his phone. “The car isn’t moving an inch. It’s almost as if whoever parked it knew it was just out of range of my camera.”<
br />
  Seven points to the screen. “And here they go.”

  A dark figure steps into view. Dark pants, dark boots, long dark coat pulled over their head, obstructing any hope of determining if this was a man or a woman. We watch as Lemon opens the door and seems to have a conversation with them. Less than five minutes goes by and the dark figure heads back to the car with their head down—face out of range of the camera.

  Soon thereafter, Lemon heads out and they take off in the mystery car.

  It’s chilling to watch her step out into the unknown like that. Unknown for the rest of us at least.

  Seven nods. “They knew what they were doing. Pull the footage from this place and yours, Judge Baxter.”

  Noah pulls up Lemon’s footage first. The security camera is set so tight all it shows is the top of the person’s hood pulled over their head. The footage from my place shows nothing. The shot is too shortsighted to see past my front porch.

  And as determined as I am to fix that, I’ve got a sinking feeling it’s too late.

  Carlotta grunts, “It’s obvious she plans on being right back. Lot would never leave her cats without telling someone to watch over them. She probably went out with a friend.”

  “Get on the horn,” I tell her. “We’re calling everyone who knows her, and we’re spreading the word until we find her.”

  Noah stares at his phone before shutting off the security footage. “It’s too early to file a missing person’s report.” He looks up at the deputies in our midst. “How about we go under the radar and do it anyway? I want every available squad car combing the streets for Lottie Lemon. Be on the lookout for that dark car, too.”

  Seven looks up. “It’s a dark blue Ford Taurus. I’d say ten years old. Has gray wool draped over the front seats and a tiny crystal hanging from the rearview mirror.”

  “How do you know that?” It comes out curt as if I were about to fight him, and I might. God knows I’m looking to kill just about anybody right now.

  Seven shakes his bald head, his eyes darting to the door. “Saw it parked outside the bakery now and again.”

  My heart thumps hard. “Noah, pull up the surveillance from the bakery.”

  “I’m on it.” Noah’s fingers dance across his keyboard and soon we’re reviewing the footage from the last few days, but there’s not a sign of that car parked out front.

  “It’s out of range,” Seven says. “It was always parked up the street where I left my car. At the time I thought it belonged to someone who owns a business there. But I recognize that dent up front. I used to work for a body shop. You notice things like this out in the wild.”

  “Okay.” Noah looks up at the deputies surrounding us. “Get out there and try to track down a dark blue Ford Taurus. I don’t care what year. I want foot patrols to sweep Main Street and the nearby park.”

  The deputies all but salute him before they dash out the door.

  Noah looks to Seven. “Give me your phone. I’m going to have you run through the last month of security footage from the bakery—tell me what you see.” He takes Seven’s phone from him and logs him into the security system. “Carlotta, get on the horn and start calling everyone. I’d better head to the B&B and talk to Miranda myself.” Noah pauses to look my way. “And Everett?”

  A dull laugh pumps from me as I shake my head. “Don’t even think of giving me an order.”

  Noah gives a long blink. “I was going to say do your best to find her. As soon as I leave Miranda’s, I’ll be out there.” He glances out the window at the ever-darkening sky. “We’re going to find her.”

  “Damn right we will.”

  I take off into the snowy evening as the icy breeze cuts through my lungs.

  “Hang on, Lemon. I am coming to get you.”

  Noah

  We looked all night.

  I don’t eat or sleep. Everett and I end up at the bakery in our yesterday clothes that we haven’t bothered to change, looking like hell while running on strong coffee and a never-ending supply of donuts Keelie keeps shuttling to our table.

  Keelie had the head chefs from the Honey Pot Diner, the restaurant next door—and coincidentally conjoined to the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery, open up the shop this morning. Both Lily and Keelie have been running the front—that is, when Keelie isn’t busy sobbing her eyes out.

  “You have to find her,” she wails as Bear comes up and wraps his arms around her.

  Keelie is Lottie’s lifelong best friend. She’s a doe-eyed blonde who is just as sweet as Lottie. And judging by those tomatoes she calls eyes, she didn’t sleep a wink last night either.

  Bear lands a kiss to her cheek. “Why don’t you go home, Keelie? Lottie would be very upset if she knew you weren’t taking care of yourself.”

  “I can’t. If I can’t go out there looking for her, the least I can do is stand watch. This bakery is her baby. I’ll take care of it for her. Just the way she would take care of my baby if something happened to me.” She starts to sob once again, and Bear pulls her in tight.

  Bear steals a moment to glower at Everett and me. Bear is a surly man, dirty blond hair and fit frame that comes from running his construction business twenty-four seven.

  “Nothing is happening to you, Keelie,” he’s quick to assure her. “And nothing better happen to Lot.” He looks over at Everett and me. “What are the two of you thinking?”

  Everett glances up from his coffee. “Are you accusing us of smething, Bear?” he growls out the words. “Because I’ve been looking for someone to blow a hole through with my fist. Would you like to be that person?”

  “Judge Baxter!” Keelie snips as she yanks Bear over to the register with her.

  I blow out a breath as I hold my phone up. “Let’s look at those threats Lottie was getting.” I pull the pictures up as Everett leans in.

  Everett shakes his head. “You should have never assumed that the killer you apprehended last week was the same person who sent these.”

  “Are you telling me that’s where I went wrong?” I’m not amused by his need to point the finger, but I’ll let it slide. We’re both out of our minds.

  “Yes.” He wipes down his face. “No. You know what I mean. We were both far too lax. I will never forgive myself for leaving her alone. My God, Seven wasn’t even there for her.” He snags the phone from me. “First cookie.” He glares at the burnt malfeasance. A charred sugar cookie in the shape of a heart with black icing. And written in pink frosting, across each of those nefarious little treats, was a blatant threat. “This one was found here at the bakery.” Everett nods as he stares down at the picture. “It read die.”

  I nod. “Next one was found at the B&B. It read death becomes you.”

  “Third.” Everett flashes the phone my way. “In the office, right here in the bakery again. It read be afraid.”

  “Final cookie.” I take the phone back and pull up a picture of that last threat. “Reads it’s time.” I shake my head down at it.

  “It was found right here in the café.” Everett turns toward the back where Lottie said she found it. “How can we have surveillance of this entire place—and not be able to see this as it’s happening? It’s like this person is a ghost.”

  I tip my head to the side and Everett shakes his head.

  “Do not go there, man,” he says. “This is a living, breathing person and we both know it.”

  “We also both know that Lottie can see the dead. Who knows what the dead are capable of?”

  “No.” Everett shakes his head. “This is an in-the-flesh human. I can feel it.”

  Lily swoops this way. Contrast to the rest of us, Lily looks immaculate with her long dark hair pulled into a neat ponytail, her face fresh scrubbed, and looking well-rested.

  “I bet Naomi had something to do with this.” She’s quick to oust the girl who was once her best friend. Both Lily and Naomi fell hard for my brother, Alex, and he unwisely decided to date them both during alternating months. And then last week, Lily left Ale
x for Miles Rock—Seven. But apparently, she and Naomi are still on the outs.

  Everett shakes his head. “I’ve already spoken with Naomi.”

  “I did, too,” I volunteer. “She’s as close to an enemy as Lottie has.”

  Everett gives me a sideways glance. “You’re kidding, right?” His eyes widen as he looks my way.

  My own eyes widen. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  The chime on the door goes off, and in strides my partner from down at the Ashford Sheriff’s Department, Detective Ivy Fairbanks.

  “Noah. Everett.” She nods over to us as she heads our way. Her hair is pulled into a bun, and she has a no-nonsense look about her, from that flat affect she displays right down to her gray wool suit. “Any news?” She pulls a tight smile.

  A lot of people think Ivy is uptight, but after working shoulder to shoulder with her for the last solid year, I can tell you she has a heart. I think.

  “Nope,” I say. “Do you have anything?”

  Ivy shakes her head. “It’s time to file an official missing person’s report. I can help. I’ll get the paperwork end of it done.”

  I nod up at her. “I’d appreciate that. Care to join us?”

  Ivy ticks her head toward the counter. “In a minute. I think I’ll grab some coffee first.” She starts to walk away and quickly backtracks. “The crime symposium is Saturday. I suppose you won’t be going.”

  A groan comes from me. The crime symposium is an annual meeting where the detectives, sheriff’s deputies, and anyone else interested in busting illegal activity gets together and exchange notes. I’ve made a few great friends over the last year through connections with other sheriff’s departments, and I was looking forward to bringing Lottie as my date.

  “I’d love to,” I say. “But unless Lottie is back, it’s not happening for me.”

  “Understand.” She nods as she and Lily take off.