Murder in the Mix Boxed Set 28-30: Cozy Mystery Addison Moore (the reading strategies book .txt) 📖

Fiona clears her throat as she shakes her head at me. “I’ll try not to bore you.”

Flo brays like a donkey with laughter. “Oh, come on, Lottie. You have to admit, that was hot. I’d make sure that man found me in contempt. There’s not a woman in this room who’s not imagining him naked underneath that robe of his.”

“Oh, stop it.” I meant to mouth the words but ended up hissing them instead.

My entire body seizes as I look to Everett, and his eyes are frozen over mine.

Great, the one person he needs to call into contempt, and it happens to be his wife. Leave it to me to humiliate the man in front of God and his co-workers.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” He nods to Fiona. “Proceed.”

I’m pretty sure that wasn’t legal ease. It’s safe to say, I owe Everett for keeping both me and the baby out of the pokey.

Fiona asks Allison how she met Carter and how their relationship started off, and it all falls in line with what we’ve heard. She met him at the dealership, and they hit it off so well they were in a serious relationship in no time. Sort of like Noah and me. But we didn’t meet at a dealership. I met him at his PI office and asked him for a loan. Long story short, I thought he was a banker. Boy, did I get that wrong. But in a twist of fate that only true love could bring, Noah ended up buying my kitchen appliances for the bakery with the money he received as an inheritance when his father supposedly died. It’s twisted, I know.

Without realizing it, I’ve missed a good chunk of questions, no thanks to my daydreaming, and I’m so appalled, I force myself to listen.

“Allison”—Fiona starts—“when did things take a dark turn for Carter and you?”

“About last March. He said he was stressed at work. His sales were low, I guess, and he started drinking and then shoving me around.”

“Did you tell him to stop?”

She swallows hard, her eyes flitting our way. “I told him that I understood, but that he couldn’t touch me that way again.”

“Did you tell anyone what had happened?”

“No.”

“And did he touch you that way again?”

She nods. “Three more times. And with each episode, he grew more violent.”

“And you still told no one?”

She glances to the floor. “I was too ashamed.”

“Then why go back to Carter’s house the day he called?” Fiona shrugs. “You could have easily told him to leave your belongings on the porch or had a friend pick them up.”

She glances to the floor again, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I wanted to believe he could change. When I arrived at his house, he was making dinner. It smelled amazing. He said we could talk, that he hadn’t been drinking and that he wanted to apologize. I was raised to believe the best in people, and I wanted to believe the best in him.”

“Take me through the events of that night.”

“I stepped into his house. I saw a box with my things, so I knew he was serious about wanting me to pick them up. I told him dinner smelled good, and he asked if I wanted to stay.” She shrugs. “I said yes.”

“Did things get physical, Allison?”

“Yes.” She looks to the jury and nods. “We started talking about the way things used to be, and he asked if we could go back to the good days. He promised there wouldn’t be any more bad days. He said if I gave him another shot he would be a totally different person.”

“Pfft.” Flo shakes her head. “Honey, if you believed that, I’ve got a bridge I could sell you that leads right to the other side.”

“And you believed him?” Fiona asks with her own air of disbelief.

“No.” Allison takes a gulping breath. “That’s when he started to unravel. He started to say things like no one else can have you, and you’ll be mine forever, and then before I knew it, his hands were over my neck and I couldn’t breathe. I saw the knife on the counter from the corner of my eye, and I grabbed it without thinking. That’s when”—she blows out a slow breath—“that’s when it happened.”

“That’s when what happened, Allison?”

“That’s when I decided enough was enough.”

Flo breaks out into a spontaneous applause. “You tell ’em, hon! Nobody but nobody lays their hands on you. My daddy taught me that.” She winks my way, and I give an appreciative nod in return.

Allison clears her throat. “He was going to kill me,” she says, looking right at me.

“Objection.” Mr. Wolfe jumps to his feet. “Leading the jury.”

“Overruled,” Everett insists. “Go on, Ms. Gray.”

Allison shudders. “I just wanted to live. I tried to beg him to stop, but I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t breathe. I figured in that moment it was him or me.”

“Do you recall how many times you stabbed Mr. Cameron?”

“No. I wasn’t even aware of what happened until he fell and I saw the blood. There was so much blood. I couldn’t leave it that way. His mother stopped by unannounced on occasion. And I was too afraid to call the police. I was afraid they wouldn’t believe me, so I—I cleaned it up as best as I could, dragged him to the living room, and set him in his favorite chair. It was all a terrible mistake, and I feel bad about it.”

“Your Honor”—Fiona nods his way—“we would like to present photographic evidence to corroborate Ms. Gray’s story.”

“Objection,” Mr. Wolfe calls out. “I’d like to call for a sidebar to view the material before it’s presented to the jury.”

Fiona looks to Everett. “Judge Baxter, the material is evidentiary regardless of counsel’s viewing.”

“Proceed,” Everett says, much to the prosecution’s dismay.

Fiona points a small remote at what looks to be a large screen television that sits to the right of the jury box, and it lights up with a series of pictures, ten at