Murder in the Mix Boxed Set 28-30: Cozy Mystery by Addison Moore (books like beach read .TXT) 📕

“Dillard,” he whispers my way as we wait for Everett to make his entrance. “I’m an accountant. I’m just about to head into my busy season, and I have extreme anxiety. If I pass out, don’t make a big deal out of it. I’m not one who likes attention.”

“Oh.” My hand presses to my chest. “Good to know.” As if I’m going to let his body slump to mine for two hours straight. Fat chance, buddy. I will be making a very big deal about it. “I’m Lottie. I’m a baker. And this is Annie.” I point to my left. “She’s a stunner.” I shrug because I have no life details on her whatsoever.

The bailiff steps forward. “All rise for the honorable Judge Essex Everett Baxter.”

About six women behind me all sigh in unison as we stand to our feet.

Annie groans as Everett walks in. “Holy buckets. How do you keep it together?” She flicks my hand with her own.

And to be honest, right now I’m not all that calm myself.

Everett floats up to his seat, looking every bit like the deity he is, body put together just the way God intended, shock of dark hair juxtaposed against those serious blue eyes. That stern expression on his gorgeous face lets us know he’s not here to play nice. And he is certainly not going to smile for us, maybe ever.

We’re seated once again as Everett does a quick once-over of the jury box, the prosecution, then the defense.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” he says. “Calling the case for People of the State of Vermont v. Allison Gray. Are both sides ready?”

I’ve got a clear shot of both the prosecution and the defense.

Mr. Wolfe is looking dapper with his gray suit and his facial fuzz. And don’t think I haven’t noticed that Annie is equally mesmerized with him as she is with Everett.

Fiona has a legal team of what looks to be a couple of interns seated behind her, a young man and woman who I saw her conferring with earlier. And next to her sits the star of the show, the defendant. She’s a young woman, about my age, with her shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair combed straight, gold-rimmed glasses, dressed in a blush pink button-down top with a tweed blazer over that. She looks milquetoast, scholarly, as if I might bump into her at the library. She definitely has an air of innocence about her.

The prosecutor, Mr. Wolfe, nods to Everett. “Ready for the People, Your Honor.”

Fiona nods as well. “Ready for the defense, Your Honor.”

Everett motions to the woman seated to his left. “Clerk, swear in the jury.”

The tall brunette has us stand and swear under oath that we will return a true verdict. We say I do and take a seat.

Honestly, as much as I’d like nothing more than to focus on the case, my stomach is already rumbling, and about halfway through that swearing in process, I lost track of what she was asking us to do. I knew I’d make a lousy juror, I knew it.

“Hey, Lottie!”

I glance up in horror to find Flo seated on the edge of Fiona’s table, swinging her legs like a kid.

“This is fun!” She reaches under the table and holds up a glob of something pink. “Gum!” she pops it into her mouth and starts to chew frenetically. “Oh, don’t look so green. What’s it gonna hurt? I’m already dead.”

She’s got a point there.

“Let’s try to speed this along.” She offers up a stern look. “We’ve got a real case to solve—mine.” She turns and makes a face at the defendant. “Whatever she did, she looks innocent enough. Let’s hope this moves quickly. A courtroom is the last place I want to spend my free time.”

“You and me both, sister,” I mutter, and suddenly all eyes are on me, including Everett’s.

He offers a quizzical look as if to ask if I was okay and I nod for him to proceed.

Everett leans in. “Would the deputy DA begin, please?”

Mr. Wolfe stands and meanders our way. He hoists up a large frame with a picture of a man with dark wavy hair and sets it on an easel. The man in the picture holds all the charm of the quintessential boy next door—the boy who follows all the rules. There’s a warmth in his smile that seems genuine. “Your Honor, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the defendant has been charged with the murder of Carter Cameron, a car salesman from right here in Ashford. There is not an argument of how or even who killed Carter this past August in his own home while in his kitchen looking to make dinner for the woman who would ultimately take his life. She’s right here in this courtroom. Allison Gray.” He takes a moment to point to the woman with the strawberry blonde hair, and she looks down at the table as if she were trying not to listen in on someone else’s private conversation. “Carter was well-loved and respected in the community, within his family. He was a good person who often gave his time and resources volunteering down at the Ashford County homeless shelter. He had a bright future in front of him. Carter loved Allison. He flaunted her proudly to his friends and family. There were even whispers of a proposal in the works. And how did she return his love and affection? By plunging a knife into his heart—repeatedly.”

My body flinches just hearing it. It looks as if the innocent librarian might just be a viper in disguise.

Flo grunts as she pops a bright pink bubble, her legs still swinging wildly. “She’s guilty.” She winks my way. “Ten bucks says he cheated. I’ve had a few exes who deserved a knife to the heart themselves. Let her go, Lot. She’s a hero to all of us.”

Back in high school, Bear made