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

“Mom!” She bounces in her high heels. “Can you believe this place? It’s everything Glam Glam wishes it could have been!”

“No, it’s not,” I’m quick to inform her. “It’s—” But before I can get another word out, one of the teenage girls by her side gasps as she looks to Everett.

“The hot judge is here!” she shrieks, and before we know it, Everett is swept up in a mob of teenage girls and grown women alike.

“Geez,” Noah says as he pulls me to the side in an effort not to get trampled to death. “I don’t think it matters to these women that the hot judge is currently suspended from his duties.”

“Oh, they know.” Evie is quick to nod. “In fact, it just makes him hotter.” She sticks a finger down her throat and pretends to gag. “And sorry, Mom, but no one seems to care about the hot baker.” She shrugs. “But guess what? They really care about me. I’m up to six million followers!” She jumps and squeals before getting lost in the crowd again.

“Six million followers?” I shake my head at Noah. “Is it safe to have six million people monitoring your every move?”

He scowls at the crowd around us. “Nothing feels safe anymore.”

A hand reaches out from the mass of bodies, and before I know it, I’m in Carlotta’s clutches.

“What do you think, Lot Lot?” She holds a hand out at the travesty before us. “Welcome to the best little whorehouse in Honey Hollow.”

I look back at Noah. “At least she’s honest. About this.” I snatch back my wrist. “Carlotta, why would you tell Teddy I was your sidekick? And are sharing your transmundane status with the people you lose money to at bingo?”

She glowers my way. “I tell my bingo girls everything. That’s bingo code. I can’t help it, Lot. Once those numbers start jumping in that cage, it’s like a truth serum is dispersed and everyone under that roof starts spilling all sorts of secrets. I know everything about everyone thanks to my Tuesday night vice. The rest of the world might have Bambi Bailey to fill in the juicy telltale gaps, but I’ve got my bingo bimbos.”

“Carlotta, the only truth serum circulating under that roof is whiskey. Those innocent bingo numbers have nothing to do with it.”

“Maybe so, but I’ve got a suspect all primed and ready to go for you in the library. Come on, Lot. Dig your heels in and winnow out the killer before those nitwits beat you to it. We’re taking bets down at Red Satin to see who’ll crack the case first. I hate to break it to you, kid, but the odds aren’t in your favor this time.”

Noah leans in. “You mean they were betting on me a few weeks back?”

“More like betting against you. But don’t feel bad, Foxy. Lot Lot is easy money—just like she’s easy in other ways, too. Speaking of which, you’d better practice your moves. It’s almost showtime. Tonight’s the big dance-off here at the B&B. Men only. Good thing the hot judge showed. There were rumors of women looking to kidnap him. Now that he’s here, he’s safe. Mostly.”

Carlotta whisks me off through the crowd, and before you can say psychotic socialite shenanigans, we’re in the library, or what used to be the library.

I gasp at the sight of it. The floor-to-ceiling bookshelves are suddenly devoid of books and filled with—

“Stuffed animals?” I balk.

Cormack runs up with her hands swinging side to side like a child.

“Well, it’s about time, Lynnie.” She gives me a wink. Cormack has her blonde hair in loose waves, and her celadon green eyes are full of mischief. She’s donned a gold dress with a pink scarf, and her accouterments—in combination with the stuffed animal brigade—send my nausea soaring out of the blue. “Sorry to break it to you. But I’ve already been given some very valuable information regarding who the killer is in the case of Verity Prescott, and soon I’ll have my prime suspect apprehended and behind bars where they belong. I’m afraid your days as an amateur spoof are numbered. You really should leave these kinds of things to the professionals, such as myself and the Big Boss.” She cranes her neck past me. “Speaking of which, I think I smell his cologne.” She trots off into the main artery of the B&B and my nausea subsides a smidge with her absence.

“Stuffed animals?” I riot at no one in particular.

The middle of the room has a cluster of chairs brought together in a circle, and I’m shocked to see more than a few familiar faces. Lainey is here, as is Keelie, her twin, Naomi, my stepsisters, Kelleth and Aspen, Britney, Noah’s ex-wife, Suze, his battle axe of a mother, my mother, Lily Swanson, Sugar Hartley, and a whole slew of other women. And each of them seems to be knitting up a storm. At this point in their projects they all seem to be working on a scarf, but I know so little about knitting they could be pants for all I know.

Of course, Juliet Jackowski is here going from person to person and praising their work. And right now my sights are set on her. She’s wearing jeans and a red and white knit cardigan, and yet oddly, everyone else here seems dressed to the nines, my sister and Keelie included.

Teddy bounds over on all fours before floating up our way.

“Welcome to the party, Lottie!” she warbles. “Pick up some sticks and get to knitting with the rest of them. Carlotta and I have already mined the suspect for all she’s worth. You just go on and enjoy yourself. Knit up a pair of booties for yourself, or better yet, the baby.”

“Booties?” I make a face over at Carlotta. “Would you please tell this sweet little girl that you’re not the primary, whatever that means. I’m the one in charge here. Teddy, you came to help me.”

“Not true, Lot,” Carlotta is quick