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

He shoots me a look, and it’s then I notice a dark twinge blooming around his left eye.

“Oh, Noah.” I gently brush my fingers over it and he winces.

“I’m fine. I was checking in on my mom, then I was just about to pick up a pizza and head back to the house. It’s not ready yet or I would have called you.”

“Is Everett making you buy his lunch after he beat you up?”

“You’re hilarious. And for your information, I got in a few good punches myself.” He glowers at the tree a moment. “On second thought, I shouldn’t have done that. He’ll probably make you kiss all his booboos later.”

He’s right, but I won’t admit to it.

Noah places his hand over my blooming belly.

“Feel any kicks today?” His cheek flickers with disappointment as the little sugar cookie baking in there decides to lay low.

“Sorry. But as soon as I feel something else, I’ll let you know. I’ve only felt it twice, once I was tossed in the back of that sheriff’s cruiser and right after I fired that gun. And I only did that to send you running. Hey? I just thought of something. Did you hear the first gunshot?”

His eyes widen a notch as he shakes his head. “Do you think they had a silencer on it?”

“I would think so. But that gun found at the scene didn’t have one.”

He blinks back. “I’ll let you know what forensics says about the weapon. It would be strange for the killer to leave a decoy behind. Unless they were trying to pin it on someone else. We’re checking the registration on the gun as well.”

“Oh no.” I moan as a horrible thought comes to me. “You would have been able to tell if that gun was recently fired had I not shot off into the night. Please tell me I didn’t ruin your case.”

“My case?” Noah’s dimples dig in as if he was amused. “No, Lot, I promise, you didn’t ruin the case. You may have entertained the killer, but the case is still going strong. And for the record, I’ll let you work on the case, too—with me at home. That way I’ll know you’re both safe.” He gives my stomach a pat. “I’ll see you back at the house.” He glances to the conservatory. “And I’m assuming you’re here to question my mother. Go easy on her.” He dots my cheek with a kiss before taking off.

In a lot of ways it very much feels as if I’m still with Noah. Odd, considering my husband just beat him up. Come to think of it, that might be why.

I’m about to head to the conservatory when Thirteen traipses this way with a supernatural looking mouse in his mouth. Thirteen is one of four ghosts that lives in—or rather haunts the inn.

Thirteen is a black cat with sparkling silver whiskers and glowing green eyes. Then there are Greer Giles, a girl about my age who was shot about a year ago, her boyfriend Winslow Decker, a two-hundred-year-old pig farmer who also happens to be a bit of a hottie, and their adopted daughter Azalea—Lea.

Little Lea is a haunted sight to behold, with her stringy, long, dark hair combed over her face, her dirty pinafore, and her scuffed up Mary Jane slippers. She’s permanently about six and carries a machete wherever she goes in hopes to avenge the blood of her family, which was slain over this very land.

Thirteen drops the little cute critter right at my feet. “I believe this belongs to you.”

A sprinkling of red and green stars ignites the area around the adorable mouse as he wiggles his round little ears.

“Is this Lottie?” He twitches his nose my way. “I’ve been meaning to thank you for the delicious buffet.”

It wasn’t always that I could communicate with the dead, but as my powers grew so did their abilities. At first, I could hear them, then they were able to move things in the material world, and not too long after that they garnered the most supreme ability of them all—they can eat. Don’t ask me where it goes or why it happens, but not a single ghost has complained about that culinary feat.

“You’re welcome, I think? So you’re Gloria’s pet mouse, Kringle, huh?” I ask as he jumps up my leg and lands on my forearm.

“I was her brother’s best friend. Gloria had a hopeless crush on me.”

A laugh bumps from me. “From what I hear, a brother’s best friend is always a hot commodity around a sister. So are you ready to nail the killer so we can get on with our holidays?”

His thin pink tail whips back and forth and it gives me the heebie-jeebies.

“Oh yes.” His whiskers twitch and tiny red stars emits from around them. “But I’m in no hurry to get back to paradise. I spent all night eating my way out of an eggnog trifle.”

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll put a few trifles in my office for you so long as you leave the rest of my inventory alone.”

“Sounds good, but do bring one back to the house. I rather enjoyed tormenting the kitties. Did you know they’re both down a few lives already?”

“That’s terrible.”

He squeaks out a laugh. “And by the time I’m through with them, they’ll be down a few more. I specialize in cat conniptions.”

“That’s even worse. I’d prefer to keep my kitties, so if you want your trifle you’ll have to spare their souls.”

“Done deal.”

The three of us head into the conservatory, and both Kringle and Thirteen make a run for the dessert table.

“Trifle!” Kringle shouts as he floats through the air and nosedives right into one of my eggnog delights. Thirteen heads for the gingerbread men and yanks one right off the platter. Lucky for me, most people blame odd occurrences like that on gravity.

The tables in the conservatory are conjoined and set up lengthways as two-dozen women all