Chocolate Chip Cookie Conundrum (Murder in the Mix Book 32) by Unknown (the lemonade war series .TXT) 📕

Her hair looks darker, a little longer—and then it hits me. It’s that woman we’ve been seeing everywhere—the one stalking us at every turn.

I drop the armload of snacks and speed in her direction.

The woman jumps back with a look of horror as she turns my way.

Same face and same eyes as Lemon.

She turns to bolt, and I catch her by the wrist.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

She takes a sharp breath, her eyes bulging wide with fear.

A rustling sound emits from my left before I can ask the woman a single question.

“Hang on, Sexy!” Carlotta shouts as she barrels down the hall, nearly tripping over what looks to be a pile of clothes in her arms. “I tried to get you to slow down out in front of the lobby!” she shouts as she staggers this way. “I’ve got Lot Lot’s clothes. Foxy’s taking a quick shower, and I just had to get one more sneak peek of that little whippersnap—”

The woman gasps as soon as she spots Carlotta, and Carlotta stops dead in her tracks about fifteen feet from ground zero.

“What the hell is going on?” I thunder as I look back at Carlotta.

The woman slips her wrist from my grip and bolts down the hall then right down the stairs like a jag of lightning.

Carlotta’s mouth falls open as she staggers backward.

“Who is she?” My voice is loud and rough as I stare, wild-eyed, at this older version of Lemon. “That look on your face, on hers. You know each other. Is she a sister? A cousin?” And then it hits me. “My God, she’s your kid, isn’t she?”

Carlotta sets the clothes in her arms down on a chair nearby and bolts for the stairs just like the woman did before her.

My heart thumps out of control as I try to wrap my mind around what’s just happened, what’s still happening.

I pick up the clothes and a couple of bags of cookies that happened to land on the chair as well. My feet carry me right back to the door to Lemon’s room and I pause.

There’s no way I’m mentioning anything that just transpired to Lemon. There’s no reason for her to worry about the Morettis, that woman who almost stepped into her room and did God knows what, or the fact Carlotta has been apprised of exactly who that mystery woman has been this entire time.

Nope.

The only thing Lemon needs to worry about is keeping our sweet little Lyla Nell comfortable.

I’ll keep them safe.

My upcoming trial wanders through my mind and I wonder if I’m capable of keeping anyone safe, least of all myself.

I take a deep breath before opening the door and heading on in.

Right now, I’m glad to take the spotlight off myself and put it where it belongs, over Lemon and Lyla Nell.

Lottie

My name is Lottie Lemon, and I see dead people. Okay, so rarely do I see dead people. Mostly I see furry creatures of the dearly departed variety who have come back from the other side to warn me of their previous owner’s impending doom. But right now, the only thing I’m seeing is my sweet little sugar cookie who finally made her debut, precious Lyla Nell.

It’s just been a few hours since I’ve given birth—in the middle of the conservatory of my mother’s B&B of all places, or at least what used to be my mother’s B&B before she foolishly sold it to a couple of airheads and promptly gave all the money to her con artist of a boyfriend. But here we are, this little dark-haired cutie and me.

Her skin glows a bright pink, and her features are dainty with a tiny button nose and perfectly shaped bowtie lips. Her eyebrows are neatly feathered and her chin comes to a slight point. I can’t stop gazing at her as she sleeps bundled in my arms.

She is perfect.

The door to the room slowly opens as my handsome husband steps in apprehensively. I had sent Everett down to get us some snacks, but my appetite seems to have tempered itself since then.

“Hey.” I sit up as best I can, happy to see him. “Thank God it’s you. I find it unnerving that they don’t have locks on the doors to these rooms. Any nutcase could just wander right in here while I’m sleeping and try to make off with Lyla Nell.” Okay, so that was most likely totally unwarranted, but I’m right regardless.

Everett’s jaw redefines itself as if the idea made him livid.

“I’m here now. Nobody is going to hurt you or Lyla Nell. I can promise you that. Happy birthday, Lemon.”

Everett has almost always called me by my surname, and I don’t mind it one bit. It’s sort of our thing.

“Thank you.” I wince. “I almost forgot all about my birthday. But now that I have a birthday buddy to share it with forever, I will never forget anything about this precious day ever again.” I land a sweet kiss to the baby’s forehead. “She’s still sleeping,” I whisper with a tiny giggle in my voice. “Oh, Everett, I’m over the moon.”

“I’m right there with you.” A heavy breath presses out of him as he takes in the tiny peanut with nothing but love in his cobalt blue eyes. “She’s beautiful, Lemon. Just like her mother.” He lands a pile of clothes onto the chair in the corner, and I recognize my sweater and a robe in the jumble.

“Did you go home?” I ask. “No wonder it took you forever.”

“No.” He looks pained at the idea as he brandishes a bag of chocolate chip cookies. “I ran into Carlotta out in the hall. I guess she wanted to drop them off herself. I think she said something about Noah taking a shower.”

“That’s fine,” I say as Everett moves the recliner right next to the bed and takes a seat. “Both Nell and my father dropped by while you were gone. Can you