Baby Bundt Cake Confusion (Murder in the Mix Book 31) Unknown (good beach reads .txt) 📖

“We polish off the rest of this cheese dip and figure out a way to talk to Slater Sutton one more time. If he was being blackmailed, that might be a motive for murder.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

We chow down on what’s left of the cheese dip and pigs in a blanket. Okay, so it’s just me chowing down on melted cheese and double fisting the wieners while Noah waits patiently.

We finally head outside just in time to see a float scooting by with a large white fluffy cloud base and a giant rainbow balloon arch stretched from one side of it to the other.

Three things immediately stop me cold.

One: Evie and her friends are staggered, standing near the front and waving at the howling crowd.

Two: Carlotta and Mayor Nash have fallen into a large cauldron at the rear of the float that reads pot o’ gold and they’re making out like a couple of teenagers.

And three: Everett is standing on the side facing our way and is tossing green beaded necklaces out to a crowd of very enthusiastic women—some of which might be flashing him.

“Don’t ask,” he shouts our way before holding up his bucket of green beaded goodness as if he were sending an invite.

Noah and I don’t hesitate. Noah helps hoist me on board, and soon I’m sandwiched between him and Everett, each of us with a bucket o’ beads to toss at the crowd, and I can’t help but think I’m the luckiest girl alive.

And I’ll be feeling even luckier once we nail down that killer.

I look up at Everett and give a few solid blinks his way.

“Lemon.” His lips curve at the tips. “That’s a legally binding contract I plan on holding you to.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And just like that, the luckiest girl alive gets even luckier.

Lottie

“You are jinxed, Lottie Lemon.” Lily doesn’t seem to mind emphasizing what she’s deemed a fact. And sadly, it just might be that, a fact.

“It’s true, Lot, You’re practically a walking, talking, broken mirror.” Carlotta jumps right on the bandwagon when it comes to driving home the point.

“Am not,” I say, scratching my head as I look at the bakery shelves that Lil’ Mama managed to collapse in the big refrigerated unit next to the counter. Lemon Bundt cakes toppled onto chocolate chip cookies, sugar cookies, and peanut butter cookies, which smashed an entire row of frosted chocolate cupcakes, and finally all of the above crushed a couple of trays of cream puffs and Napoleons to smithereens. And I was really looking forward to plowing my way through a Napoleon this morning—with a little hot sauce sprinkled on top, of course.

Everett and I just dropped Evie off at school then stopped by the bakery to check in and share a cup of coffee and some of my sweet treats. We were about to go over samples for the kitchen in our new house, when and if the new construction ever gets to that phase. Let’s just say I’m the last person who has any faith in Bear Fisher getting too far in his progress.

“Don’t worry, Lottie.” Lily sighs. “It’s not that busy. Suze can handle the customers while I clean up this mess.”

“I’ll help.” Everett dots my lips with a kiss before rolling up the sleeves on his flannel. I’ll admit, there’s nothing hotter than Everett in street clothes. I’m so used to seeing him in a suit that it’s been fun watching him transform into the world’s hottest lumberjack. As soon as we stepped into the bakery, about three different women nearly fainted and one of them asked for his autograph.

“Thank you,” I tell them as they get right to work.

“I’m sorry, Lottie.” Lil’ Mama barks from the safety of Carlotta’s arms. Her gorgeous silky hair is smeared with lemon Bundt cake frosting. She’s so adorable, though, it wouldn’t matter if she took a bath in chocolate frosting. With her long, straight snow-white fur and black button eyes, she looks like a stuffed animal that came to life—or death as it were. “Those desserts were calling me. Once, when I was still living with the Albrights—still living in general, I got into a birthday cake that was set out. It was Mr. Albright’s fiftieth and Mrs. Albright laughed and said I had done a good job. Couldn’t we say I did a good job?”

“You did a great job, kiddo.” Carlotta is quick to placate the poltergeist among us.

“Don’t worry about it, Lil’ Mama,” I tell her. “I’ve ravaged these bakery shelves myself on more than one occasion. When my best friend Keelie and I were kids, we had a donut eating contest. And after a few too many jelly-filled confections, we looked as though we had lived through a massacre. So much so, that when our mothers found us, they screamed their heads off. Mom was convinced we had partaken in a blood oath of some kind.”

A bubbling laugh erupts from behind, and I find not only my bestie, but my sister Lainey, too.

“I remember that like it was yesterday.” Keelie pats her stomach. “I couldn’t even look at donuts for months. Thank God that went away. Remind me to raid the donuts once we’re through.”

“Through with what?” I look from one to the other.

Keelie has her golden curls swept up into a ponytail, an apron on that reads the Honey Pot Diner over her sweater and jeans, and in her hands she’s holding what looks to be a professional grade camera. And Lainey looks downright cozy in a pink cable cardigan and dark navy velvet jeans. But her hair is done and her face is dolled up, letting me know she’s on duty today at the library.

“It’s time for your close-up, Lottie.” Lainey smears a semi-sarcastic grin while holding up what looks to be a white gauzy nightgown. “It’s my lunch hour, so we have to move fast. I’m in charge of story