Raspberry Tart Terror (Murder in the Mix Book 30) Unknown (christmas read aloud .TXT) 📖

and Dad are hot!” She enters the room and stops cold before letting out a cry of frustration. “Seriously? Eww! It never ends with the perversion around here,” she wails as she heads back to her room.

“Great.” I blow out a breath. “It’s nice to know Verity approves.” I give my belly a pat. “Well, boys, we’re having a baby. And that’s about the only part of this night that makes any sense.”

Everett and Noah don’t say a word; instead, they both nod in agreement.

The baby keeps on kicking and we get right back to watching.

It’s hard to beat this kind of entertainment. That shoot ’em up action flick had nothing on this kid.

It’s a blessing.

A miracle.

And some way, somehow, I’m going to have to squeeze it out of my nether regions.

Something tells me I’ll be needing a miracle myself to pull that feat off.

And a whole lotta drugs to go along with it.

But Verity Prescott won’t ever get the chance to experience this miracle for herself. There’s a killer out there who robbed her of every opportunity she would have had. And tomorrow, I’m going to see if Juliet Jackowski can help narrow the field on who that killer could be.

And maybe, just maybe, I might be speaking to the killer herself.

Everett

Hot Judge? I’m calling a meeting, STAT. Bring your cohorts in carnal crime.

Fiona isn’t amused.

Heck, I’m not amused.

Since Lemon, Noah, and I are already at the bakery, Fiona agrees to meet us here.

Lily refills my coffee with a wink. “Here you go, Hot Judge. And by the way, I just opened an Insta Pictures account and so did Keelie, Meg, and Lainey.” She nods to Lemon. “Your mom did, too. Oh, and Keelie and I opened one up for both you and the bakery. Of course, the Honey Pot Diner has one now, too. I’m sorry, Lottie, but we can’t afford to get left behind in the digital dark age. They say businesses should give free stuff to influencers who have large social media followings. It’s the only way to be seen these days.” She bats her lashes my way. “And boy, do I miss seeing you. You really are a hot judge, Essex. But then, I already knew as much.” She lifts her shoulder as she takes off to tend to the customers at the register.

Carlotta gurgles out a laugh. “Everyone knows that about you, Sexy. Rumor has it, you’re already a pinup for half the girls at Honey Hollow High, and don’t get me started on the things those university girls want to do with your picture.” She waves her mug over at Lemon. “I’m sorry, Lot Lot, but they cropped you out. In fact, you’re the most hated woman in America. Other women don’t like someone trying to put the moves on their man.”

“He’s my man.” Lemon frowns over at Carlotta as she puts together a heaping plate of cookies. “And I don’t think this is funny. This whole Insta Pictures thing is turning into a nightmare for Evie and for all of us.”

Noah nods. “Evie showed me another message Verity sent this morning.”

My stomach stings just hearing about it. “What did it say?”

He shrugs over his coffee. “She congratulated her on yet another viral post. She said something about remembering to use your celebrity status for good and not evil.”

Lemon shudders. “Just the thought of Verity texting from the dead sounds evil to me.”

“Essex?” Fiona calls from behind as the sound of her heels click in this direction, and there’s a briefcase dangling from her hand like a weapon. Her hair is pulled back tightly, her jaw set to a scowl as she examines us all through her dark-framed glasses. “All of you, follow me.”

We do as we’re told—Carlotta included—and soon we’re seated at a table by the window with a plate of those cookies Lemon fixed up for us.

“Coffee?” Lemon offers, but Fiona merely holds up a hand.

“I’m doing the talking. Do not speak unless spoken to,” she snips while looking at Carlotta. “Who are you, and what do you want?”

“I’m Lot Lot’s DNA donor. Don’t worry, sister. I’m not crazy about her either.”

“It’s true.” Lemon nods as she picks up a raspberry tart. “She abandoned me as an infant.”

Fiona’s chin lifts a notch as she reexamines Carlotta through this new lens. “I like you better already.” Her eyes shift my way, and I can feel the white-hot spotlight of her anger falling over me. “Are you purposefully trying to turn potential jurors against you? Not only has your teenage daughter turned your naked body into a viral sensation overnight, but that bimbo, Bambi Bailey, has turned her social media gossip column up full volume as well on your behalf. Congratulations. Do you want to know what her headline was? Hot Judge? Or Hot Felon?” Her eyes widen with rage.

Carlotta grunts, “My vote is for hot felon,” she says while hitching her thumb in Lemon’s direction. “I keep trying to tell this one just how juicy some incarcerated lovin’ can be, but she just won’t listen.” She nods to Fiona. “But I can tell by that gleam in your eye, you’ve been pushed up against a state-issued vending machine or two. Lottie Dottie here thinks she’s better than folks like you and me. I think a stint in the big house might be good for her. She needs a little hair on her chest.”

Fiona doesn’t so much as twitch a muscle on her face.

“Your little Lottie Dottie isn’t the one in the hot seat.” She turns my way. “Essex, you are staring down the barrel of a prison sentence. Our entire case is built on the fact you’re an upstanding citizen. I’m sorry, but soft porn images do not an upstanding citizen make. And neither does what amounts to grave robbing. Have you thought of a defense?”

I’m slow to answer. “No.”

Noah shrugs. “I’ve got my wheels spinning as well, if it means anything.”

“It doesn’t,” she fires back without bothering to break