Baby Bundt Cake Confusion (Murder in the Mix Book 31) by Unknown (best way to read books .TXT) 📕

of the room like a tongue. The walls, furniture, and carpet all share the jewel-toned hue of its famed moniker and the waitresses all run around with little more on than a couple of pasties.

Meg spots us and comes up with her dark hair sitting on her head like a nest, her makeup done to the hilt as if she were going for the zombie look herself, and she’s clad in leather with thigh-high boots that I might be interested in borrowing one day if I ever see my feet again.

“If you’re looking for the maternity ward, you made a wrong turn,” she says, pulling me into a quick embrace as much as my distended belly will allow, and the baby gives her a wallop for the effort. “Hey, I felt that.” She thumps my belly right back and sets off a doozy of a Braxton Hicks contraction.

“Whoa,” I say. “Easy, Meg. My belly is a time bomb just waiting to blow. You don’t want me to have the baby in here, do you?”

“Sorry, Lot,” she says, taking up my hand. “But you wouldn’t be the first. We had a couple of dancers give birth on stage.”

“You don’t say,” Carlotta looks delighted by the fact, and come to think of it, so does Lil’ Mama.

“How many were in the litter?” The little dog barks.

Meg gives a quick blink to Carlotta and me. “Which one of you said that?”

A breath hitches in my throat as I drop her hand like a hot potato—or more to the point, a hot game of tombstone telephone. Meg doesn’t know about my supernatural quirk.

“Carlotta,” I snip. “Would you please stop likening babies to puppies?” I offer up an apologetic shrug to Lil’ Mama. Someone had to take the fall. There’s no way I’m outing my supernatural abilities to anyone else at the moment. I have enough going on already.

“Each woman gave birth to one,” Meg tells her. “And one of the dancers didn’t even know she was pregnant. She was rail thin, too. It was creepy seeing an infant crawling out of her between pole spins. The other girl was almost as big as Lot here. No offense, Lot, but you’re about the biggest prego I’ve ever laid eyes on in my life. You’re pretty much Lainey and Keelie combined at this point. I’d lay off the fried pickles if I were you.”

Both Lil’ Mama and I growl over at her as Carlotta pulls me back.

Carlotta shakes her head. “For everyone’s safety, you’d best leave Lot Lot’s fried pickles out this, Meg.” She glances to her right before doing a double take. “Maybe you can rustle up an order of extra cheesy nachos. I see someone we need to have a chat with.”

I crane my neck in that direction, and there he is, the silver fox with the large dark eyes.

I don’t waste any time speeding us over as Carlotta and I take a seat at the table where he’s entertaining three wiggling, jiggling beauties.

“Well, if it isn’t the don who wants my hubby gone,” I seethe and my baby gives a sharp kick as if he or she is pretty miffed, too. I can’t blame the kid. It’s Daddy’s life is in the balance.

Lil’ Mama barks up a storm right in Jimmy’s face, and I appreciate her show of devotion to me. It’s more than I can say for Suze. Leave it to Suze to be outdone in the loyalty department by a dead dog no less.

Jimmy snaps his fingers and the three scantily clad women all but evaporate.

“You blew up Everett’s car last night!” I shout, but let’s face it, the men who occupy the seats around us couldn’t care less about a car being blown up. They’re far too mesmerized by other blown up things in the vicinity—namely female body parts.

“They blew up his car?” He shakes his head as he glances to the ceiling. “Was he in it?”

“No!” I riot over at him. “Thankfully. And neither was I. You could have killed Everett, me, and my baby. We travel together in the event you’re unaware.”

“You could have killed me, too, Jimmy,” Carlotta says, albeit without an ounce of the horrific enthusiasm I brought to the table.

“My apologies.” He lifts a hand, and just like that, Lil’ Mama stops barking and starts sniffing around his neck. “I gave the job to a couple of newbs. They need to get broken in, and I thought the judge would be a good person to cut their teeth on.”

“You left the assassination of my husband in the hands of a couple of amateurs?” I’m not sure why this incenses me so much, but my blood is good and boiled for a number of odd reasons right now. I blame my wayward hormones for this.

“Lot’s right.” Carlotta slaps her hand down over the table. “You gotta pick up your game. We want an entire team of professionals on the job.”

“What? No!” I’m quick to protest. “It’s bad enough I came here to put a hit out on Noah a few months back.” An accidental hit, but nevertheless.

Jimmy leans in. “You put a hit out on the cop? And he’s still living?” The muscles in his jaw grow tight. “It’s clear my men need a refresher course.”

“No!” I protest once again. “I don’t want Noah or Everett dead.” But Jimmy is quickly inching up my personal list of people I’d like to see the Grim Reaper introduce himself to. “You need to stop this vendetta you have against Everett. Haven’t you heard? The only reason he stole Florenza’s body from the morgue was because he was sleepwalking. He was completely oblivious as to what he was doing; therefore, he’s completely innocent.” And if he believes that, I have a bridge with a bevy of naked cuties I’d like to sell him. I might expect a jury to buy it, but not a man like Jimmy.

His lips twitch. “You can sell it to a jury, but you can’t