Eggnog Trifle Trouble (Murder in the Mix #28) - Addison Moore Page 0,15
sheds a pained smile. “Your blood pressure might be elevated, and so for that alone I’m going to suggest you go straight home and rest. Should you feel even the slightest twinge, don’t hesitate to call me. I’ll have my phone on all night just for you. Otherwise, I’ll see you at your regularly scheduled appointment. I’m sorry you had to come upon such a grisly scene. It’s a horrible thing.”
She takes off, and Everett pulls me in and holds me, whispering how much I mean to him, how much he loves me right into my ear.
“Please, Lemon”—he breathes the words over my temple—“don’t even think about this case. This Christmas is all about new beginnings, getting settled as a family, and getting back to spending some serious alone time together.” He dots a kiss to my lips, and I nod up at him, all the while trying to ignore the fact a sugary perfume seems to be lingering on his suit. I’m sure it’s nothing. My hormones want to run wild in all sorts of crazy directions tonight.
Dr. Barnette is right. I witnessed a horrible thing.
A sharp scream erupts over by that haunted painting, and we look over to find Carlotta dancing a jig and pulling my mother in on the foot-stomping chaos.
“I won!” Carlotta shouts at the top of her lungs to the amusement of those around her. “I won! I won!”
“Frosty the Snowman” blares over the speakers, and people continue to dance to the peppy beat. One wouldn’t think that a body lies just outside of these walls—that a person who was just in this very room reveling in the merriment has turned up dead with a gunshot wound to the back.
One would never suspect that a murder had taken place, let alone that there might be a murderer in our midst.
But someone did pull that trigger, and I very much doubt it was Suze.
Someone killed Gloria Abner in cold blood, and they just might have come back in to have a jolly good time.
It would be the perfect cover.
Not that it would help.
They will be winnowed out.
And come hell or high water, the protest from Noah or Everett—I’m betting I’ll be the one to do just that.
Chapter 4
December in Honey Hollow is the most magical time of the year. All of Main Street is lit up with twinkle lights, garland is strung up from one business to the next with cheery red bows dotting it intermittently, and each door is festooned with a wreath made of evergreens and poinsettias.
The Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery is no different. The inside has always held a homey appeal with its butter yellow walls and mix and match pastel furniture, but Lily and I went the extra nine yards and put up garland and lights along the counter and windows. I’ve put an entire gingerbread village on display, frosted and dotted with colorful candies. And because of their apparent yummy goodness, I’ve had more orders than ever for those scrumptious humble abodes.
My bakery and the restaurant next door, the Honey Pot Diner, are connected through a shared wall. They both once belonged to my grandma Nell—back when I still didn’t know she was my grandmother.
Nell has since passed away, and she left just about everything she owned to me. Of course, she left a nominal amount to her children, Carlotta, Aunt Becca—my best friend Keelie’s mom—and Uncle William who actually took me to court in an effort to get back everything Nell gave me, which didn’t work. Nell felt guilty for keeping Carlotta’s secret all these years, and the cash and prizes were her way of making it up to me. But Nell got to watch me grow up with the Lemon family, and I worked for her as soon as I came back from college. We were closer than ever back then.
The Honey Pot Diner was Nell’s baby. It’s as quirky as it is delicious, and there’s a life-size oak tree made of resin that sits in the middle of the establishment. The branches are strewn with twinkle lights that crawl over the ceiling and creep right over the ceiling of the café portion of my bakery as well, giving both places a fairy-tale appeal.
A rush of customers just vacated the premises at what felt like the very same time, and Lily belts out a hard groan.
She takes a moment to glare my way. “I thought I warned you not to actively participate in any more homicides.”