Murder in the Mix Boxed Set 28-30: Cozy Mystery by Addison Moore (books like beach read .TXT) 📕
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- Author: Addison Moore
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Noah hardens his stare over at me. “Did you know that camera was there?”
“Don’t make me cross the room and beat you,” I seethe. “No, I didn’t know the camera was there. I’m not all that hot on taking a hit, let alone doing it to save your neck.”
“Don’t do me any favors.”
Fiona’s chest bucks. “You should be kissing his shiny shoes, Noah. Everett is taking one firmly on the chin. He could easily have taken you down with him. I’ll talk to the judge about setting bail for you, Essex.” Her expression sours as she looks at Noah. “I’ll see about getting you released with nothing more than an internal investigation pending. They have nothing on you other than the fact the body was found in your backyard.” Her eyes sharpen over mine. “And seeing that the two of you are feuding over the same woman, it’s easy to pin that on Essex, too. Perhaps you wanted to make Noah look guilty.”
“I didn’t.”
“That’s not the point,” she fires back as she stands and signals for the guard.
“What about my defense?” The question feels like window dressing in an otherwise charred out room.
“I’ll do some digging,” she says as the guard opens the door and she steps on through before looking back over at me. “I won’t be finding any more bodies, will I?”
“No.”
“Good.” She points my way. “Keep it that way. I want to see you back on that bench.” She stalks on out of here, and Noah settles his angry eyes my way.
“So you get to be the hero, huh?” His dimples dig in a moment, and the sight of them only seems to enrage me all the more.
“I’m always the hero, Noah. And don’t worry. I’m not fishing for a thank you.”
He nods. “I know what you’re fishing for. Lottie’s heart.”
“I don’t need to fish for it. I already have it.”
He bows his head a moment, but I’m not dense enough to think he’s admitting defeat.
“Everett.” He sniffs back his emotions. “I love her. You know that. And I know in my heart that baby is mine. I want another chance with her.”
I know that. Lemon knows that. And if that baby is his, and I’m doing time, maybe that’s what should happen. Lemon and I will drift apart. It feels almost inevitable.
I take a seat, lean my head back against the cold concrete wall, and close my eyes.
“No,” I tell him.
“I’m not asking for your permission, Everett. I’m just putting it out there.”
“Look, you’re going to be out of here soon. Don’t embarrass yourself by putting the moves on my wife.” A hard breath blows from my lips. “I want you to watch out for Evie for me.”
He nods. “You know I will.”
Evie is the daughter I share with Cressida Bentley, one of the many women I regrettably tangoed with. Apparently, we had a kid and she felt the need to hide that information until it suited her to present it to me—right before I was about to have her arrested for stalking Lemon.
Cressida has made it no secret she wants me back, and I’ve made it no secret that psychotic relationship isn’t happening. I have full custody of Evie now, my beautiful, sweet, yet feisty, sixteen-year-old daughter, and I have no plans on handing her over to Cressida ever again. Not that Cressida would be gunning for the position. She dropped Evie off at a boarding school when she was a toddler and left her there to rot.
Noah leans heavy over his knees once again. “You know I love Evie as if she were my own. I’ll make sure she has everything she needs, including my time.”
“Good.” My teeth grind for a moment. “Take care of Lemon, too.”
Noah doesn’t say anything, just continues to stare me down.
“Thank you for taking one on the chin for me. You’re the big brother I never had.” His chest expands with his next breath. “I’ll take good care of Lottie for you.”
I bet he will.
And just like that, it feels as if Lemon and I have already drifted apart.
Less than two hours later, Noah is free to go home and Fiona lets me know the courts here in Ashford are congested. Nobody wants to give a judge preferential treatment in fear it will cost them their own precious seat.
I get my bail hearing in a week.
Nope. I’m not getting an iota of preferential treatment. If anything, they’ll want to make an example out of me.
Homicide detectives may not fare well in prison, but judges sure as hell don’t either.
Lottie
Less than three days have dissipated and Evie and I have dropped by the holding tank Everett is locked up in at least ten times already.
Noah has all but moved in with me. Not that he needs to, seeing that he lives directly across the street. But he’s been staying late and coming in early and feeding us breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It’s hard to tell if he’s ever left. Not that I want him to. Everything has been such a nightmare, I can hardly hold my wits together, let alone my bakery or my household.
Lucky for me, my mother called and asked me to whip up a dozen platters of raspberry tarts for an event taking place at her bed and breakfast. She was very specific in letting me know it’s the only dessert we’re to serve here this evening. Apparently, it’s keeping with the theme in some way.
I tried to explain to her that I didn’t have any fresh raspberries, but she said it didn’t matter. So I used baker’s jam instead, which in my opinion is as equally delicious.
Correction, this event isn’t taking place at my mother’s B&B. Just
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