Eggnog Trifle Trouble (Murder in the Mix #28) - Addison Moore Page 0,12
side of a panic. “I came out and found the gun. I picked it up, and then I saw Gloria, my one true friend, lying in the snow, dead!”
Her one true friend?
I distinctly heard them exchanging barbs not that long ago. Why is Suze suddenly switching up the narrative? I realize that death clears the deck as far as holding grudges and lingering disagreements go, but this is Suze Fox we’re talking about. She doesn’t stand down to anyone, let alone death.
“Oh, Essex.” She leans hard on him. “I can’t bear to look at her.” She staggers out a few steps and Everett is forced to go along with her.
I waste no time in pulling Noah in by the lapel.
“My goodness, Noah, what did she say?” I’ll admit, there’s a touch of morbid glee in my voice. I’ve never seen Suze so unhinged. Honestly, I didn’t think she was capable.
Noah’s dimples go off without the benefit of a smile. “She said she didn’t do it.”
“And that’s it? You’re going to believe her just like that?”
“Yes.” His eyes grow wild with disbelief at the words streaming from my lips.
“I’m sorry.” My hand warms my belly. “These hormones coursing through my veins have me delving into all sorts of twisted directions. I’m sure she didn’t do it.” I shrug up at him. “But I did hear a not-so nice conversation the two of them shared inside.” I’m not sure why I don’t feel the need to help cover for Suze, but in my defense, I have always been a purveyor of justice.
Noah’s brows knit together. “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll keep that in mind. But for now, I need to get out there and look for clues that the real killer could have left behind. Do you have Ethel with you?”
Ethel would be the sleek black Glock both Noah and Everett gifted me for my own protection well over a year ago.
“No,” I tell him. “I’m working tonight, and I knew I’d have the two of you. Not to mention the fact it’s Christmastime. The last thing I even want to think about this time of year is murder.” I glance over to Gloria Abner’s body lying stiff over the snow and it breaks my heart. “Noah, someone did this to her. Your mother must have seen something. Hopefully, she’ll be able to tell you more once you’re down in Ashford later tonight.”
His chest bucks with a silent laugh. “I’m not taking her to the station, Lot.”
My mouth falls open as I look to the man I have professed my love to a countless number of times and a surge of adrenaline hits me like never before.
“No fair, Noah. You let them haul me to Ashford last week when you knew darn well that I didn’t put a hit out on you—not on purpose anyway. I think this is a clear case of you playing favorites.”
He inches back as if I struck him. “Lottie, this is my mother we’re talking about. And you know I had no control over what happened to you last week.”
A choking sound emits from me. “I see how it goes. Your mother gets a free pass as a murder suspect while I had to endure spending Thanksgiving night on a hard, cold bench in the processing area, instead of stuffing my face with pie. Do you realize I could be cooking up a baby Fox in my belly? Doesn’t that purchase an ounce of mercy from you? I used to think so. But judging by the way you’re about to let a potential murderer off the hook, merely due to the fact she pushed you from her loins, then I think not.”
I tread my way through the snow, past Everett, who quickly, and might I add wisely, abandons his post at Suze’s side. We’re about to head back into the open maw of the kitchen when I spot that honey-haired man, Chris Holiday, standing a few feet away from my bakery van with his arms crossed over his chest. He’s glaring at the crime scene as if it offended him on some level, and I waste no time in heading over.
“Did you see something?” I call out his way.
“Lemon”—Everett whispers—“we’re letting Noah take this one, remember?”
Chris glances our way. “I just stepped outside to get some air and spotted that older blonde.” He does a double take in my direction. “And come to think of it, I spotted you, too. That gunshot sent me running