Eggnog Trifle Trouble (Murder in the Mix #28) - Addison Moore Page 0,54

box her way.

“Thanks. I’ll be sure to share these. And I wouldn’t worry about it. If he’s not with you, he’s probably getting some shopping done. It is that time of year.”

“You’re right. That’s exactly what it is.” A flood of relief hits me.

He’s probably buying me a naughty nightie as we speak. That man has a one-track mind that I wholeheartedly approve of.

I head back to my minivan and pull out my phone. I just have to text him.

Any chance of you coming home early? I hit send. I don’t want to tip him off to the fact I know what he’s up to. But if he’s smart, he’ll let me put on the nightie far before Christmas ever gets here. No reason to wait on a gift that keeps on giving.

Sorry. He texts back, and those dancing ellipses light up the screen to let me know he’s still typing. Heavy load all day. I’ll try to get away soon if things let up.

My heart sinks a little. I’m sure it’s not a lie—not in the traditional sense anyway. He probably has a heavy load of packages.

His secretary is probably right. Everett is shopping, and he doesn’t want to ruin the surprise.

I hope.

I drive all the way back to Honey Hollow wondering what Judge Essex Everett Baxter is up to.

Chapter 11

“What in the heck is that?” Lily asks while Meg and Carlotta look my way with equally disgusted faces. It’s the very next day, and I’m right back where I started, at the bakery eating my emotions, eating my curiosity about the case, and eating just for the glorious sake of eating. Honestly, I couldn’t think of a better reason.

Carlotta pretends to gag, or perhaps she is gagging, I can’t quite tell the difference.

“Lot Lot, that smells like meat, and I think I see cheese oozing out of your new dessert.

I carefully cut off another piece, take a bite, and moan as I look out at the bakery before me.

“It’s a cannelloni,” I say as I swallow down my food. “It’s basically a slice of pepperoni pizza folded over on itself. I hopped across the street to Mangias to grab a quick lunch and they had one ready to go, so I took it.”

A guttural sound escapes from Meg’s throat. “What’s that on top of it?”

“Oh, that?” I make tracks with my fork over the concoction. “Naturally, I thought this would pair well with vanilla ice cream, but since I didn’t have any I thought I’d slather it with a thick layer of the eggnog custard.”

“Ugh.” Lily sounds as if she’s about to outright vomit. “Well, what’s the brown goo?”

“Chocolate fudge.” I shrug. “Did I have any other choice?”

Carlotta wrinkles her nose at the concoction. “And you added sprinkles because?”

“I thought it added a festive flare, and I sort of craved the crunch.”

Lily makes a face. “I’d see a doctor about that if I were you.” She heads off to help the customers at the register.

Carlotta makes a face at the food in my bowl. “Don’t bring that mess home with you, Lot Lot. Evie might just start in on some of that projectile vomiting she’s always threatening us with. Speaking of which, she asked me to take her to that snazzy outdoors shop out in Fallbrook tomorrow to look for new ski boots. Make sure you slip her some Benjamins, or better yet, arm her with her daddy’s plastic. I don’t want to get stuck footing the bill for a bunch of designer skiwear.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re not taking her. She thinks she’s going skiing with a bunch of boys, and Everett and I aren’t having it.”

“I don’t know, Lot. She’s a blue blood. You can’t keep those blue bloods from noshing on Beluga caviar while cascading down a snow-covered mountain. Which reminds me. She wanted me to call up at the lodge and make sure they stocked up on Beluga and truffles.”

“I’ll handle it from here.”

Meg sniffs my way. “Hand me an eggnog trifle, Lot. Who are we kidding? That toxic sludge you’re eating is making me hungry. But I’d be slow to take that as a compliment. I’ve got a stomach made of steel. I’ve seen things, Lot. And it’s never stopped me from having dinner.”

I quickly oblige her just as a supernatural specter the size of an apple appears before me on the counter in all of his glowing glory.

“Aww,” Carlotta coos at him, and I give her a subtle shake of the head