Pecan Pie Predicament (Murder in the Mix #27) - Addison Moore Page 0,48
at hand.”
“Something tells me that’s how you got through law school.” I give a little wink as I take off for the bar.
Barry waves me over to where he sits with Greer, and I head their way.
“She’s right over there, Lottie.” Barry points a ghostly finger to the redhead seated at the end of the bar with her laptop open and a plate that’s nearly finished in front of her.
Greer leans my way. “I was snooping at her work from over her shoulder. She’s doing an excellent write-up on your bakery, Lottie. An article like this could be great for business. My mother used to subscribe to Better Homes and Calories. It’s a huge publication.”
“Mine did, too,” I say the words through my teeth. “Wish me luck.” I head that way just as a seat opens up next to her.
“Shirley Temple, please,” I say to the bartender as I fall into the stool beside her.
Autumn leans back and inspects me. “Well, if it isn’t the famous Lottie Lemon!” A warm laugh strums from her. She’s donned a red boiled wool jacket with a white turtleneck poking through at the neck. She’s got on jeans and tall brown boots, and looks nice and toasty for a night out on the town in the cool fall weather.
“Famous? I’m almost afraid to know why. Please say it’s because you’ve fallen in love with my pecan pie. I can’t keep a single slice on the shelf at the bakery.”
She bounces with a laugh. “Well that, too. But mostly because your sweet mother does nothing but talk about how wonderful you are.”
“Consider the source. Not only that, but she knows you’re doing a write-up on the bakery.”
The bell rings, and a row of six contestants, including Evie, dive their faces into a pile of whipped cream.
“I’m assuming there’s a pie in there somewhere.” I laugh as the two of us turn to watch the carnage. “That’s my daughter, Evie, on the end, the one with the black hair knotted up at the base of her neck.” It’s a quick updo that Evie just pulled off in an effort to save her tresses.
“She’s off to a great start,” Autumn muses. “You’re really lucky, Lottie. I wanted to have kids, but I guess it just wasn’t in the cards for me.”
“Oh, you’re so young,” I tell her. She might be a smidge older than me, but she couldn’t be older than her mid-thirties. “I mean, you still have time. Love comes first. How are things working out in that department? Good, I hope.”
Autumn glances to the ceiling. “Not really. I’ve never been lucky in love. My husband and I parted ways a few months back. But it’s a good thing. I thought we were meant for one another, but I guess we grew into two different people. I’m not opposed to falling in love again, but let’s just say I don’t have a very trusting heart.”
I nod. “I’m sorry to hear it. Any word from Hannah’s family? You mentioned the two of you were friends. Any funeral arrangements?”
Her eyes widen. “I’m not that close. I knew Hannah, but I don’t know her parents. I think her father was the one that raised her. He was on that reality show—and from what I heard—the spotlight went to his head. Anyway, Maizy mentioned he had Hannah cremated and her remains sent back to him. So that’s the end of that. No service or anything. She’s just gone.” She sighs at the thought.
“That’s heartbreaking,” I say as I watch Evie plowing her way through the whipped cream and into the thick of the pumpkin pie. “I guess the sheriff’s department is still baffled by who could have poisoned her. They tested my pies, and the poison didn’t originate in my bakery. So there’s still a killer out there.” A thought comes to me. “Hey? You wouldn’t happen to know anything about a man in a fedora, would you? Just a little bit before my husband and I stumbled upon Hannah’s body, we saw some man in a fedora roughing her up in the alley.”
She blinks back, stunned. “Really? That’s so strange.” Her gaze darts around the room as though she were truly stymied. “I have no idea who that could have been. But then, I’m not from the area. I’m actually from south of Ashford. I guess I could have driven here each day, but I sort of liked the thought of taking a vacation on the company’s dime. My