Lock, Stock, and Feral by Addison Moore (free e novels .txt) 📕

head over to Georgie’s table, only to find her kaftan crumpled up in a ball on the table and a couple of Nilla Wafers stuck to the outside of her bra.

A hard groan comes from me. “Georgie,” I hiss. “Get those cookies off your brassiere.”

“Hon, I’m not wearin’ a brassiere. These days I only wear that boulder holder on days that end in Z.”

“GAH!” I snatch her up and pull that dress off the table, spraying chips around errantly and a dusting of cards, too. The men spike out of their seats in a revolt, and in the process the table jostles and a couple of Mason jars tip over, making an instant mess over the area.

“Food fight!” Georgie shouts, picking up her spoon and slinging banana pudding at the man across from her. And within seconds, banana pudding is being flung every which way.

“Good grief!” I shout as I toss her dress over her head. “We need to go, now.” I drag both her and Juni across the way, getting pegged in the neck, the leg, and square over my bottom—you can’t tell me someone wasn’t aiming to get that shot.

Laughter breaks out, as do errant howls as perfectly reasonable looking men—or mobsters as they might be—continue to sling banana pudding at one another as if they had suddenly reverted back to seventh grade.

I tiptoe over to Macy while James flicks a few shots off at a nearby table and shouts something about teaching them a lesson for stealing his lunch.

“Come on, Mace”—I say as I pull her my way a few inches—“we need to leave now. Jasper says so.”

“I don’t care what Jasper says.” She yanks her hand back. “He’s your boss, not mine. I’ve got a stick shift to drive, if you know what I mean. I’m not looking to sit in the back seat of your used car while your hubby dictates our every move.”

I pull her in close by the shoulders in one hulkish move. “That man whose lap you’ve been seated in all night? I think he just might be the killer!”

A yelping noise emits from her. “Why didn’t you say so?”

Macy rockets us to the door and I drag Georgie and Juni along with me.

“Wait!” Juni cries out above the shouting and the salty language flying behind us. “I need me some more banana pudding.”

“Good idea,” I say. “We’ll raid the kitchen first.”

We make a mad dash that way and scoop up as many Mason jars as our arms will allow and we hightail it out of that penthouse into the first open elevator, and out of the Royal Regency as if it were on fire.

I don’t text Jasper. Instead, I drive like a madwoman all the way back to Cider Cove, and about halfway there I find a familiar car following me.

“We’re being tracked. Lose him, Biz!” Georgie shouts. “You hit the gas, I’ll pelt him with banana pudding.”

“It’s Jasper,” I tell her. “He’s just making sure I’m safe.”

Macy snorts. “First, he tells you what to do and then he tails you? I think you’ve got a problem on your hands, little sister. And this possessive behavior is precisely why I’m never getting hitched.”

Juni turns to Georgie. “Macy got the brains.”

“I’ve got brains,” I mutter. Enough brains to know that this case has two very viable suspects—Devan and James. And, of course, Hadley, too. I can’t let her off the hook. She wrote regency porn about my husband.

Fine, she underwent a trauma I know nothing about. I guess I have to give her a pass all the way back to 1812.

After dropping everyone off, I pull into the driveway and Jasper pulls up behind me. I get out and quickly hand him his very own banana pudding.

“I guess I’ll have to return the Mason jars to the hotel or it’s considered stealing.” I cringe. “But something tells me petty theft is the least of my worries.”

He nods. “You could have been killed.”

“Yeah, but instead of bullets, those mobsters shoot with banana pudding,” I say, plucking at a strand of my sticky hair.

His brows furrow a moment as the moonlight kisses his features and turns his hair a pale shade of blue.

“I think you have some pudding right there.” He brushes his finger over my neck before diving in and cleaning it off with his kiss. Jasper pulls back and his chest expands with his next breath. “Let me help you get cleaned up.”

“Wait—what happened when you questioned Devan?”

His shoulders sag. “She swears up and down she doesn’t grow anything toxic. I put in a request with the judge for a search warrant of both her home and her business, but she assured me I wouldn’t find anything.”

I scoff. “That’s because by the time you get your hands on those warrants, her hands would have disposed of the evidence—that is, if she did it. And if she didn’t…”

He nods. “Someone could be trying to frame her.”

“And what about our diabetic killer?”

“Let’s hope he doesn’t skip town before I can question him again. Higgins House checked out. He let me have the run of the place but only as far as he had access himself. Nothing shady on the outside. But as for now, I’m clocking off. I’ve got a wife to tend to. The killer will have to wait.”

“In that case.” I pull three more Mason jars full of banana pudding out of the car. “How do you feel about food fights?”

A dark laugh brews in his chest. “I think we’re both going to come away victorious in this war.” He leans in and touches his lips to my ear. “I’ll make sure of it.”

And a delicious time is had by all.

Patterson Higgins’ killer will have to wait.

For now.

Chapter 11

“I’m ruined!” Mom wails as she hugs Clyde tightly.

It’s the middle of the afternoon, the day after the banana pudding wars, and my mother summoned Jasper and me down to her shop, Two Old Broads.

Georgie and Juni are here snickering by her