Chocolate Chip Cookie Conundrum (Murder in the Mix Book 32) Unknown (me reader txt) 📖

back here. I need to have a word with you!” But he doesn’t slow down. Instead, he heads in the direction of Candace Cottonwood’s office and I’m hot on his haunted little heels.

The air grows warmer as I head down the hall, and the scent of Candace’s sugary perfume lingers in the air.

Burt, the producer, pops up next to me with his ill-fitting suit and serious face. The bags under his eyes look twice their size.

“Candace?” he bellows. “We’re live in sixty seconds! Get this circus under control!”

He steps into her office and groans hard, so I peer into the office after him and gasp.

Carlotta stands before us holding what looks to be a crystal bowling pin in her hand. And at her feet, with a gash to the side of her head, lies Candace’s motionless body. Her legs are splayed out, and in her right hand, pinched between her fingers, is one of my chocolate chip cookies.

The rooster hops onto the dead woman’s back and lets out a loud cock-a-doodle-doo before dissipating in a flash of miniature stars.

Candace won’t have to worry about spilling any more secrets.

Candace Cottonwood is dead.

Lottie

“Is she dead?” Carlotta bleats while holding what is clearly the murder weapon. The blood alone on the crystal award is enough to determine that.

“Of course, she’s dead,” Burt says, quickly checking the woman’s pulse. “You should know, you killed her.”

I give a quick look around. Two of the crystal trophies have been knocked to the ground under the shelf they were once on. My eyes flit to her desk and note that red file that read death of Zack Ross is suddenly missing. And on the floor next to the desk a red handkerchief rests over the carpet as if it was dropped in haste. It looks vaguely familiar, but at the moment I can’t seem to pinpoint where or when I saw it last.

Carlotta belts out a howl—although I’m not sure there’s a single touch of grief in there, more like frustration, and soon enough, the room is teeming with people.

“Ashford County Sheriff’s Department!” Noah shouts as he raises his badge in the air for all to see. “I need everyone to clear out of this room. I’m putting a call in to the sheriff’s department right now.” And he does just that as Everett wraps his arms around me.

“Lemon.” He pulls back enough for me to see his lower lip swelling on one side. “What the heck happened? Why is Carlotta holding that Best in Show award and mumbling to herself?”

Before I can answer, Burt lets out a horrific groan. “She did it!” He points to Carlotta. “I saw her standing here over the body when I walked in. Her daughter saw it, too! She’s guilty. I demand you arrest her, Detective.”

Noah shoots me a look, and my mouth falls open because I don’t know what to say.

“Don’t just stand there!” Burt shouts. “We all heard her threatening Candace just a few minutes ago. And she’s killed her in the exact way she threatened to.”

He’s not wrong. Only I think he is. Sure, she threatened to bash the woman’s head in with one of her awards, but Carlotta would never do that. Would she?

Soon, the room floods with sheriff’s deputies and we’re all escorted out of the area.

The tiny hall leading up to Candace’s office is cordoned off as the rest of us congregate in the rear of the studio.

Kit comes up with tears in her blue eyes that match the exact same hue as her T-shirt.

Wait…a blue T-shirt?

“Is it true?” she pants as she looks back in the direction of the melee. “Your mother killed Candace?”

“No, it’s not true,” I say just as a sheriff’s deputy hauls Carlotta out of the hallway kicking and screaming.

“I didn’t do it!” she howls. “Foxy! Sexy?” She does a double take in our direction. “Lot Lot! Sexy! You’ve got to help me! I’m innocent, I tell you! I was on my way back there to apologize, I tell ya!”

“Right.” Kit shakes her head in disbelief as Carlotta is hauled to the back exit.

“Don’t worry!” I call after her, pulling Everett in that direction. “I’m sure we’ll straighten everything out!”

Carlotta is shoved into the back of a patrol car and locked inside and she wastes no time slapping her hands against the glass.

Everett and I step outside the back door of the studio to watch the carnage. The sun is out, but there’s still very much a chill in the air. Spring is here and the air holds the scent of lilacs blooming somewhere in the distance.

“I’ll take care of this,” Everett shouts as the patrol car speeds away in haste. “Let me get Fiona on the line.” He blows out a heavy breath as he takes a few steps away.

“What just happened? Are the rumors true? Did Carlotta really kill the woman?” Evie calls out as she heads this way with her friends in tow. “Did they haul Cray-Cray off before I could get a picture of her?”

“Don’t worry,” I say. “Her mugshot will be public record in no time.” I shudder just saying it.

“Cool!” She high-fives her friends as they take off back inside.

“Lemon”—Everett comes over and wraps his arms around me once again—“Fiona said she’d meet us down at the station—us as in Noah and me. I want you to head back to the house with Lyla Nell. No use in losing a day over it. And the baby needs you more than Carlotta does.”

“You’d be surprised. Carlotta can be quite the baby.”

His lips curve just enough to acknowledge it’s true.

“I’ve got this. Don’t worry. I’m sure everything will work out.” He gives a dark look to the studio. “I highly doubt Carlotta is to blame, but that means whoever did this might still be in there.”

I nod. “I hate to say it, but I saw Kit arguing with Candace earlier. Everett, Kit was wearing a white T-shirt when we arrived. And after Candace turned up