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

So much for amping up the haunting.

The night wraps up, and Everett and I are finally alone in our bedroom where I do my best to reciprocate those sultry moves he showed me.

But come tomorrow, I’m going to implement a whole other set of moves when I scour Vermont to track down the woman who just may have fed Verity Prescott that poisoned tart.

Watch out, Bambi Bailey.

I’m coming for you.

And if you’re the killer, I’ll sic a hot cop on you, too.

I’m saving the hot judge for myself.

Noah

“Hot cop?” Ivy Fairbanks looks a touch amused. “Now there’s a hashtag I can get behind.” An impish grin plays on her lips.

But I’m not smiling back.

The last thing I want to do is send Ivy the wrong message. Which is exactly why when Ivy said she wanted to meet for coffee to see how things were going, I suggested the bakery. I figured that way Lottie can see that nothing is happening, and Ivy will understand where my loyalty lies.

“I didn’t think of the hashtag,” I tell her.

“No, the masses did once you took off your shirt.” She frowns over at me and her skin pulls in odd directions from the strain of that bun she’s trapped her hair in. “What are you and Everett thinking? You’re both on suspension. And you’re not in the clear yet. The State may have put off pressing charges against you, but it doesn’t mean it won’t. Noah, you need to keep your nose clean. You can’t go stripping in nightclubs while teenage girls chant for you to take it off.”

Lottie comes our way and sets a platter of her treats on the table along with two cups of coffee.

“By the looks of it, I’ve interrupted something.” Lottie’s upper lip flickers when she says it. I recognize that look because it usually signifies she’s not too happy with me. And believe me, I’m more than familiar with it. Unfortunately, I’ve upset her more than I care to think about.

Ivy pulls a tight smile her way. “I was just reprimanding Noah for his misconduct last night. Neither he nor your husband is in any position to put themselves in a negative light. But I’m sure you’re well aware of that.”

“I’m all too aware,” Lottie says, rubbing her belly before taking a seat next to me.

The scent of warm vanilla floats from her, and I take it in.

Lottie Lemon is intoxicating in every single way. I can’t get enough of any single part of her.

And don’t think I didn’t notice the fact Ivy pointed out that Lottie already had a husband. I know what Ivy is up to. Not only does she want to drive home the point I shouldn’t be doing any extracurricular activities, but she wants to drive home the point that Lottie is taken.

Lottie tips the platter of desserts toward Ivy. “Raspberry tart?”

“Are you trying to poison me?” Ivy doesn’t miss a beat.

“Not while you’re in my bakery.” Lottie blinks a smile her way. “So what’s going on with the case? Have you questioned Bambi Bailey yet? Did you know that Verity had a shouting match with her the night she died? She threatened to get a restraining order against her. What did Bambi have to say about that?”

Ivy gives a solid blink. “Since you asked me and not Bambi herself, I’ll go ahead and tell you what I know as a reward. But let’s be clear. This is my case, Lottie. You’re not to interfere with my suspects.” She pulls a raspberry tart onto a napkin. “Are we clear on that?”

“Clear as day,” Lottie says just as a rumble of thunder goes off outside from the storm percolating up above. “Now spill it.”

Ivy takes a moment to frown at the two of us. “Bambi Bailey said she didn’t know what that restraining order threat was about. She said that the two of them weren’t on the best of terms as of late, but that most of that fell on Verity’s shoulders. Apparently, Bambi stopped acting like her personal henchman, and Verity wasn’t all that pleased. She mentioned that Verity said she’d ruin her. As I see it, that little stunt about needing a restraining order could have very well fit the bill.”

“And?” Lottie doesn’t look satisfied in the least with that explanation. “You’re still digging into this, right?”

Ivy tips her head back as if Lottie struck her. “I’m digging into a lot of things at the moment. The operative word being I. You, on the other hand, have a bakery to run, a husband to keep busy, and a baby to prepare for. There’s no need for you to worry about Verity Prescott’s killer. I have it handled.” She takes a sip from her coffee. “Delicious,” she says, toasting us both with it. “But I’m afraid I have to run. I’m meeting with Chad Harris this evening to have a few more words regarding his late girlfriend.”

“Ooh”—Lottie perks up—“where did you hunt him down? I know nothing about him.”

A dull laugh bounces from Ivy as she stands to her feet. “And that’s exactly how we’ll keep it. Stay out of trouble, the both of you. Noah”—she nods my way—“we’ll keep in touch. Perhaps next time we can do dinner across the street at Mangias? I hear they serve impeccable Italian food.”

Lottie grunts as Ivy stalks off into the snow.

“I swear that woman just likes to get under my skin,” she growls. “And believe me, she wants to get under the sheets with you. I don’t need a road map to know where she’d really like to go with you. I’ve told you for years that she has the hots for you.”

“And apparently you’re right.” I tip my head toward the door. “What did you think of what she said?”

“Regarding the case? Pfft. She’s clueless. Personally, I think Bambi fed her a load of bull and Ivy opened her mouth all the wider while