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

Everett shakes his head. “Your analogy misses the mark in so many ways. But please don’t call either of my daughters a hellion. I can only be pushed so far, and right now you’re pushing in the wrong direction.” He looks to Cressida. “I believe my attorneys will be meeting with yours in the morning to discuss a change of title for your share of the B&B, and they’ll discuss the fair market value as well.”

She waves it off. “I don’t need your money, Essex. Just take that cursed bed and breakfast off my hands already. I’ve had about enough of those ghosts and their shenanigans.”

“Cressida, thank you,” I say, pressing my hand to my chest. But deep down, I know it’s Greer and the ghostly gang I really need to be thanking, and I will.

Everett twitches a smile. “Thank you, Cressida. I’ll donate the fair market value to the children’s wing at the hospital like we talked about the first time. Cormack, do you want to join in on the fun?”

Her lips move side to side. “You know I’ve always wanted to have a threesome with you, Essex, but unfortunately, my heart belongs to someone else now. And fifty percent of that B&B belongs to me. I’m not giving it up for nothing.”

“What about your new Getting Candid with Cormack gig?” I ask. “Isn’t that going to hog up all of your time?”

“I’m a Thoroughly Modern Millie. I can take on a talk show and fry it up in a pan.”

Great. Just when I think I can get Cormack to break, she starts quoting show tunes and commercials from an era gone by.

“We’ll see you later.” Cormack gives Noah’s tie a playful tug. “I’d better fuel up. I have a feeling our practice sessions are going to run into extra innings, if you know what I mean. Oh, and congratulations on arresting Kit Knickerson! I knew you’d catch the killer.”

I don’t bother correcting Cormack that she’s yet again botched the case. I’m sure once she sees Kit at the studio she’ll catch on. Either that or she’ll figure that Kit has a father much like her own who greases her legal troubles away. Such is the life of a featherhead.

Cressida makes a face my way. “But this doesn’t mean I’m leaving Honey Hollow. I’ll be at the B&B until yachting season begins.”

They take off and I laugh as I pull Everett close.

“Please tell me yachting season lasts eleven months at least.” I’m about to yank at his tie when something large and protruding hits my hip from his right pocket. “Whoa. What do you have in your pocket? One of Lyla Nell’s rattles?”

Carlotta links arms with Noah. “Let’s make tracks, Foxy. Lot Lot’s appetite is coming back strong, and I’d hate for you to see the two of them get frisky on the sand.”

Noah averts his eyes. “There are a million people out. They’re not getting frisky on the sand.”

“Sure, they are,” she contests. “She’s a Sawyer deep down where it counts. And if Sexy plays his lumpy pants right, he’ll have her doing her own rendition of the bunny hop before the egg roll starts.”

I reach into Everett’s pocket and pull out the biggest wad of cash I have ever seen.

“What in the world?” I take in a breath as I examine it.

“Well, looky there.” Carlotta gasps. “The Easter bunny has been very good to someone this year. I believe there was a mix-up with the baskets, Sexy. Hand it over.”

Everett and Noah exchange a hard glance and Noah doesn’t say a word.

“Noah?” I look over at him. “You know about this, don’t you?”

Carlotta clucks her tongue. “Did you get the wrong basket, too, Foxy? That one was meant for Lot.” She purses her lips my way. “Play along if you know what’s good for you, kid, and I just might split the take.”

“Nobody is taking anything,” I say as Everett lands his hand over the money. “How much is this? And I expect you to tell the truth.”

Everett takes a moment to glare at Carlotta.

“Twenty thousand.” He takes a deep breath as he looks to the parking lot. “We’re expecting a guest, Lemon, and I owe the driver money.”

“Where are they driving in from?” I balk. “The North Pole?”

Everett’s cheek flickers. “My guess is they came from Arizona.”

Carlotta jolts. “Well, I gotta run home.” She starts to take off and I pull her back.

“What do mean you have to run home? We live too far to walk. And you didn’t drive.”

“I’ll drive home on a sandwich,” she says in a panic.

“What?” I shake my head at her, trying to get a bead on why she’s so mixed up all of a sudden.

“I’ve got clouds in my pocket.” Her mouth opens as she looks to Everett. “I mean, I forgot to use mouthwash.” She looks my way. “If you remember anything about me, remember that I cared about oral hygiene.”

“Remember? What’s going on? Carlotta, why is your brain suddenly so deep-fried?” I ask as I look to the three of them. “Why are you all acting so squirrely? Did the three of you have cookie dough for breakfast again?”

My sisters and my mother head this way, along with Lyla Nell, but just as I’m about to greet them—or tell them to run from the lunacy that seems to be taking place among us—I spot a black truck stopping abruptly in front of us a few yards away in the parking lot. A woman darts out of it and makes a run for the woods. That wavy hair of hers, that all too familiar profile…

“It’s her,” I call out as I point that way and both Everett and Noah take off like a couple of bats in flight. It’s only then I realize Everett took the money right out of my hand before he zipped off.

Meg steps in close. “What’s Manny Moretti doing here?”

“Manny Moretti?” I follow her gaze, and sure enough, I recognize the