Page 6 of Twice Baked Risky Whiskey Cakes (MURDER IN THE MIX #53)
LOTTIE
A sickly metallic scent mingles with the crisp night air, creating a nauseating cocktail that makes my stomach lurch.
Sebastian Gallagher’s vacant eyes reflect the security lights above, giving them an eerie glow. The pearl knife handle protruding from his chest looks more like a prop from a bad murder mystery dinner theater. Except for the fact the sanguine pool spreading beneath him is all too real.
My brain struggles to process the scene. Sebastian Gallagher is dead, while Eliza Baxter stands over him with her hands awash in crimson. So much crimson everywhere.
A scream tears from my throat, high and primal. Carlotta joins in as well and her wail rises an octave above my own.
Footsteps pound against the pavement and we look up to see Everett and Noah sprinting toward us from the direction of the parking lot. They skid to a halt and their expressions transform from concern to shock as they take in the grisly scene.
“Lemon?” Everett wraps me in his arms in an instant before he does a double take in his mother’s direction. “ Mom ?” His entire body grows rigid. “What happened?”
“I’ll tell you what happened.” Carlotta manages to find her voice before either Eliza or I do. “Looks like your mama taught this whiskey-guzzling fool the ultimate lesson about crossing a Baxter—death by accessorizing.” She nods to Eliza. “That knife really brings out the dead in his complexion.”
A hard groan expels from me. “Not now, Carlotta,” I whisper her way. Not that my words have ever stopped her before.
“ Geez .” Noah drops to his knees beside Sebastian and presses two fingers against his neck before sighing. “He’s gone. I need to call this in.” He pulls out his phone and quickly does just that.
“Don’t worry, Sexy,” Carlotta spouts off. “We’ll help you cover up your mama’s little homicidal hobby. In fact, we’ll cheer on Foxy as he helps bury the body.”
I’d protest, but it wouldn’t be the first time that whole bury-the-body thing happened—but that’s another story entirely. And for the record, we weren’t responsible for that person’s death either. Mostly.
Behind us, in the community center, the party continues in full swing.
The muffled thump of Irish music and bursts of laughter create a surreal backdrop to the horror before us.
Life and death, separated by nothing more than a hedge and a few feet of concrete.
It always seems to be this way, and it’s a pattern that I don’t care for at all. But one I seem powerless to stop.
“Everett”—Eliza holds out her hands and examines the glossy sanguine liquid under the patio lights.
“It’s not what it looks like.” Her voice trembles, which is so unlike her.
Her hands—those perfectly manicured hands that I can guarantee you have never touched anything remotely dirty—appear to be wearing glossy red gloves.
“I found him this way. I tried to pull the knife out, but it wouldn’t budge. ”
“ Yeah ,” Carlotta snorts. “That’s her story and she’s sticking to it! Just like I’m sticking to my ‘I’ve only had one glass of whiskey’ story after I drain the whole bottle. No harm in getting ahead of my alibi.”
Everett moves to his mother’s side and wraps an arm around her shoulders. His face is unreadable, but I can tell he’s torn between the instinct to protect his mother and his ingrained respect for the law.
The exit door behind us opens with a bang as Ivy Fairbanks strides onto the scene as if she’s been waiting in the wings for her cue.
Her red hair gleams under the security lights as she takes in the scene with professional efficiency.
Those long legs eat up the distance between us in seconds, and soon she’s standing in front of us with that all-too-familiar scowl on her face.
“Noah,” she acknowledges her counterpart at the homicide department with a curt nod that somehow still manages to convey her undying devotion.
She’s been crushing hard on Noah ever since they met.
Which also explains her undying disdain toward yours truly.
Her gaze slides over me with all the warmth of a January blizzard. “Lottie.”
Carlotta snickers at the woman despite the somber scene. “Fancy meeting you here, Poison Ivy. Good thing Lot Lot here keeps stumbling over bodies or you’d be out of a job. Or I guess in this case, you can thank Sexy’s mama for the corpse.”
“So much for covering up a crime,” I mutter and Everett’s eyes flash my way.
I guess the party is still on in that respect.
Noah shoots Carlotta, Everett, and me a quick warning look as well before turning to Ivy. “The victim is Sebastian Gallagher. I don’t know much more about him, but multiple witnesses inside were speaking with him. I’m sure he has ID on his person somewhere.”
Carlotta harumphs. “Why don’t you ask Baxter the Butcher to ID the body? She knows exactly who he is,” she spouts off once again, unprovoked. Although, let’s face it, she seems to be provoking the rest of us just fine. Carlotta juts her head in Eliza’s direction. “Ain’t that right, Toots?”
Eliza grunts as she holds up her bloodstained hands. “Carlotta, do you really want to get on my bad side tonight?”
Ivy shakes her head. “I’m pretty sure it’s Lottie’s bad side you want to stay away from. And don’t think I don’t see that donut in the man’s hand.” She nods my way. “It’s practically your calling card.”
My mouth falls open, but before I can say a word, Ivy plucks a ream of yellow caution tape from her bag.
Carlotta gasps at the sight. “The woman carries crime scene tape in her purse!”
“Where Lottie goes, murder follows,” Ivy says without missing a lethal beat.
Carlotta shrugs at the thought. “She really does know you, Lot.”
I poke her in the ribs and she jumps. Clearly, she doesn’t know me.
“Don’t worry, Noah,” Ivy says as she inspects the body. “I called for backup on my way over. When I heard your voice on the dispatch, I figured you might need support.”
Of course, she did. When doesn’t Ivy Fairbanks come running at the first hint of Noah needing support ? We all know exactly how she would like to support him, and it just so happens to be behind closed doors.
I’ll admit, just the thought boils my blood. I can’t help it. I’m surging with hormones—most of which need to find a Sexy outlet, and soon. I nod up at Everett as if I had said those words out loud and he offers a reassuring nod right back because it’s clear he understood my every unspoken word.
Everett gently guides his mother away from the body while saying something softly to her.
I can’t hear the conversation, but his protective stance speaks volumes.
If Eliza Baxter is responsible for landing this poor man in the next life, then she will most assuredly be getting away with murder.
It really does pay to have a high-powered judge as your son.
One of the babies gives me a swift kick. Ooh , maybe one of the twins will be a high-powered judge someday, too. And if that’s the case, I suppose I can start picking out my victim.
I cast a side glance at Ivy and give a knowing nod, and this time I don’t blame the hormones at all.
People begin to pour out of the community center, drawn by our screams or perhaps just seeking fresh air. Or maybe it’s the army of screaming sirens all heading this way that did it.
The first woman to round the hedge lets out a shriek that could shatter glass. More screams follow as others discover the grisly scene, and that alone inspires Ivy to move with impressive speed as she cordons off the area with her magic purse tape.
My mother and Meg push through the growing crowd as both of their faces contort with deep concern. My mother’s lemon blonde locks bounce around her shoulders with each hurried step, and her green and white checked wool coat stands out among the sea of emerald party attire.
Next to her, Meg is basically a contrast in every way.
My older sister is a self-professed Goth princess and, case in point, has dyed her hair a harsh shade of midnight that seems to absorb light rather than reflect it.
She’s dressed in black from head to toe, is wearing combat boots to keep her tootsies toasty, and has on lipstick in the darkest necrotic shade to add that extra level of the undead look she’s going for.
“ Lottie! ” My mother rushes to my side, narrowly avoiding a collision with the caution tape. “Are you all right? Are the babies okay?” Her eyes narrow in on me. “What have you done now?”
And just like that, this night takes another step sideways.