Page 32 of Twice Baked Risky Whiskey Cakes (MURDER IN THE MIX #53)

LOTTIE

“ I ’m in,” I say. And I have no doubt Everett is anxious to find the real killer, considering the fact his mother is at the top of the official suspect list. And maybe even mine.

“Venus’ mother.” Noah nods. “Keegan Meryl has a clean record and no obvious motive.”

“Nice to hear,” I say as I wince. “But Della did mention seeing a blonde woman having an intense conversation with Sebastian that night. I’m thinking it might have been her.

” I dive right back into that shepherd’s pie, where I belong, just before another thought hits me.

“You know, Keegan told me something strange at Fondu’s birthday party.

She said, ‘I realize my true relationship with Sebastian will come out in the end, but I can’t say a word without speaking to my children first. They would never forgive me. ’”

“That sounds suspiciously like confession-adjacent territory,” Noah observes, before reaching for another slice of soda bread.

“Very adjacent,” Sebby agrees, attempting to steal a bite of my pie and achieving the feat.

I point hard at Carlotta’s pie and he mock salutes me with his paw before drifting her way.

“Sebastian was quite the ladies’ man in his day, too.

And that blonde sure is a looker. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to take a bite. ”

I make a face just as Sebby takes a bite from Carlotta’s pie and nearly loses his tail because of it.

“And Keegan dropped another bomb, too,” I add. “She told me she knew all about my relationship to Eliza. Then she said not only was Eliza at the scene of the crime, but she thought Eliza may have had a very good motive.”

Everett’s fork pauses midway to his mouth. “My mother? That’s ridiculous.”

“What did she say the motive was?” Noah asks, with his lips pursing in the way they do when they are full well in the know about something.

“That’s just it. She refused to say. She also said that if her suspicions are right, then that was Eliza’s story to tell.” I wince over at Everett.

“Classic deflection tactic,” he’s quick to say.

“The oldest trick in the book,” Carlotta agrees. “When in doubt, point the finger at someone else’s mother-in-law.”

“Well”—I shrug a little at Everett— “I did see your mother confronting Sebastian that night. She had him backed against the wall, jabbing her finger into his chest. She was furious.”

Noah clears his throat and suddenly becomes very interested in his shepherd’s pie. And is he avoiding eye contact?

One of the twins gives a swift kick and I rub my belly. Maybe I’m reading too much into this.

If Noah knew anything about Eliza, I’m sure he’d share it with us. I glance over at Everett and he seems completely like himself. In other words, completely irate that his mother is sitting anywhere near a suspect list.

“My mother wouldn’t kill anyone,” Everett says firmly. “I’d stake my life on it.”

Carlotta sighs his way. “There’s nothing sexier than a man standing up for his mama. Even if she wore the man’s blood like a pair of gloves.”

“I still say Eliza is innocent,” I declare, reaching for another piece of soda bread—and the crock of honey butter. I’m no fool. “I really do like her friend Glinda. I’m glad she has a good network of support right now.”

“Anything else with Della Crane?” Noah asks, pulling off a chunk of the golden crust with his fork.

“Yes,” I say, leaning in. “Della mentioned that Sebastian once had a business partner who went to prison while he walked away clean. But she didn’t know the details, though.”

Noah tips his head to the side and jots it down on his phone.

“I’ll be sure to look into that as soon as I get home.

” He puts down his phone. “So, we have Keegan with a mysterious relationship to Sebastian, Eliza with a confrontation that was witnessed, Della scammed out of two hundred thousand dollars,” Noah summarizes, looking every bit the handsome detective he is—even with a bright orange beard that fans out in every direction.

“Don’t forget the abandoned wife and kids,” Carlotta reminds us. “Hell hath no fury like a woman left with the bills and brats.”

“Hear, hear,” Sebby says before landing his face in Carlotta’s shepherd’s pie.

The twins choose this moment to launch what feels like an Irish step dance competition inside my uterus, making me wince and press a hand to my side.

“Lemon?” Everett looks ready to launch out of his seat.

“ Are you okay? ” Everett and Noah ask in unison, then glare at each other.

“I’m more than fine,” I assure them. “The twins are just excited about the case. Or possibly the soda bread—and the honey butter. And for sure the shepherd’s pie.”

“Who are you kidding, Lot?” Carlotta scoffs. “Those baby boozers are excited about all the free beer tomorrow. St. Patrick’s Day in Honey Hollow is legendary. Even the little yippers know it.”

“Tomorrow is St. Patrick’s Day,” Noah acknowledges. “But orange beards aside”—he tugs at his synthetic facial hair—“I doubt there will be any free beer, green or otherwise.”

Carlotta grunts, “Way to be a downer, Foxy. Just so you know, I happen to have a little sneak peek into a surprise that Harry is planning for all of Honey Hollow.”

“What kind of surprise?” I ask, instantly suspicious. Not that I have any reason to be suspicious of Mayor Nash, aka my biological father. But then, whenever he and Carlotta colluded in private before, it produced two children via an extramarital affair.

“What kind of surprise?” Carlotta crows my way. “The surprising kind, Lot. You’ll have to find out tomorrow like everyone else. I’ll give you a hint—the parade ends at Honey Lake.”

Everett frowns her way. “That’s not a hint, that’s a geographical fact.”

Carlotta offers an unrepentant shrug. “Geography can be almost as sexy as you.”

We finish up our meals before Everett antes up his credit card, and we head for the geographical area known as the parking lot.

“I sure hope things look up for the case soon,” I say as Noah and Carlotta walk well ahead of Everett and me.

He wraps his arm around my waist as best he can and lands a kiss on my cheek.

“I’d say the night is getting better already,” he says, tugging at his orange beard and I laugh.

“After that meal? How could this night possibly improve from here?” I tease.

He ticks his head to the side. “I was thinking once we get home, I could help you out of these clothes and into something a little more comfortable.”

“Judge Baxter.” I gasp and laugh. “Are you suggesting I need help undressing?” It’s basically true, but I want to hear the saucy things he has to say.

“I’m suggesting”—he says with a twitch of his lips that still makes my heart race—“that I have very specific motions I’d like to file when we get home.”

“Planning to present evidence in my chambers?” I bite down on a smile as I do my best to match his legal innuendo.

“If it pleases the court. And it is my sole purpose to please the court.” He leans down and brushes his lips to my ear. “Let’s just say, I’m prepared to work late into the night on this particular case.”

“Well then”—I smile up at him—“I think the court is ready to hear your opening arguments.”

“Prepare to be stunned.” He stops next to my minivan. “However, the beard is definitely not invited to the proceedings.”

“Objection sustained,” I say, plucking the orange menace from my face. “The prosecution is ready when you are.”

Between abandoned wives, emptied bank accounts, and enough secrets to fill one of my triple layer cakes, someone in our cozy little town decided Sebastian Gallagher needed permanent retirement.

And tomorrow, mixed in with all those green beers and fake orange beards, my killer-finding radar tells me we’ll be rubbing elbows with someone who stabbed their way to a solution.

If the twins kicking my ribs are any indication, they’ve got a hunch about who it might be, too.

If only they’d give me a clue.