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

“Wake up,” Everett growls my way. “What’s the deal with Fiona? I highly doubt you asked her down here to be your Valentine.”

A surge of sugary perfume assaults our senses as Cormack appears and wraps her arms around me tightly as if she were about to pull me away from the side of a cliff.

“I solved the case!” she squeals in my ear. “I know who the killer is, Big Boss, and you need to arrest her right now.”

Lottie curves her lips up at Everett then me.

“Cormack, the killer was just apprehended,” Lottie tells her with a note of glee in her voice. “So you’re a day late and a killer short.”

Cormack’s mouth opens wide. “That can’t be. She’s right in there, in the conservatory. The killer is Bambi Bailey.”

“How do you figure?” I may as well get this out of the way.

Cormack glides her finger down my tie. “Easy, Hot Cop.” She gives a flirtatious wink. “Verity said she wanted to issue a restraining order against her the night Verity was killed. Lucinda didn’t pick up on that, but that put Bambi right at the top of the suspect list for me.”

“Me, too,” Lottie says. “You see, I did pick up on that, but I knew to dig deeper.”

Cormack huffs, “Oh, I dug deep, Leslie. I dug so deep I read almost half of Bambi’s new tell-all. It turns out, she confessed to the killing right there in black and white.” She smacks me on the chest. “Cuff her, Big Boss. And afterwards, we can go to that Italian place you like so much and share a pizza.”

Lottie starts to vibrate with rage at the sight of it. Mangias is our place, and I would never take that away from her. Nor would I break bread or pizza with Cormack anywhere, at any time, let alone on this sacred day devoted to love.

“What did you read in the book, Cormack?” I ask as my patience begins to wane. My eyes flit to the entrance for any sign of Fiona, but there’s none just yet.

Cormack’s hands snake around my body, and I carefully pluck her off, much to her dismay.

“Fine,” she pouts. “On page thirteen, Bambi states she had an infamous friendship with the famed Verity Prescott, which went off like a bottle rocket then dissipated just as quickly.”

Lottie scoffs. “That’s hardly any evidence.”

“Oh yeah?” Cormack takes a step in Lottie’s direction. “And then she said, ‘Verity Prescott has hair that I would kill for.’”

Lottie chokes on a laugh. “Cormack, I read that, too. It’s hardly a motive for murder.”

“No, it’s not a motive.” Cormack shoots daggers at Lottie. “It’s a confession.”

“All right.” Everett rocks back on his heels. “Good effort, Cormack. But the killer was Juliet Jackowski. Her family canned jam for a living, and she had working knowledge of botulism.”

Lottie nods. “Botulism is an adverse effect of canning gone wrong. Juliet confessed to killing Verity in order to keep from going to prison over the fact she was stealing from the Craft Emporium. Verity was using their theft as leverage over her. And it was Juliet who was sending those cryptic messages to Evie. But then, you probably have no clue about the other component to this case.”

Cormack gasps. “You mean there were two killers? I don’t even know how that works.” She looks my way. “Don’t worry, Big Boss. I’ll be at your place later and you can teach me a few lessons on how to improve my sleuthing skills.” She licks her lips. “And I’m not talking about detective work.” She takes off before I can reject the offer.

“Don’t worry, Lot,” I tell her. “I have a deadbolt, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

My attention shifts to Everett for a moment. “Would you mind if I had a private word with Lottie? Just for a moment?”

Everett takes a breath, and I can tell he’s as stressed out as he’s ever been.

“No problem.” He glances to the door. “I think I’ll head out front and see if I can spot Fiona.” He brushes a kiss to Lottie’s cheek. “If he tries to steal second base again, knee him in the cookies.” He takes off, and Lottie presses out a shy smile.

“I’ve been given strict orders,” she teases.

The music shifts to something moodier, and I hold out a hand her way.

“Can I have this dance?”

“I would never deny you,” she says, falling into my arms, and it feels right.

As if it were a reflex, I plant a kiss over the top of her head.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Lottie.”

“Same to you, Big Boss.” She gives a cheeky wink, and we share a warm laugh on Cormack’s behalf.

I swallow hard as I take in her beauty. “The thing I wanted to tell you is that—you own me, Lottie Lemon.”

“And you very much own me, in a very strange way, Noah Fox.” She shrugs. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t ever apologize for giving me the best news ever.”

Her stomach jumps, and I feel it up against my hip.

“Whoa.” I land a hand over her stomach and can’t help but grin. “Happy Valentine’s Day to you, too, kiddo. I guess we’re going to meet you soon enough.”

“Noah”—Lottie breathes my name in a sigh—“it’s all happening so fast, I can’t bear it. And yet it can’t get here fast enough all at the same time.”

“I feel the exact same way.”

“And don’t worry.” She gives my tie a playful tug. “I want you to know that whether or not this is your baby, you are going to play a vital role in its life. Just like you are with Evie.”

I give a solemn nod. “Thank you for that.”

Lottie blinks up at me with those doe eyes of hers, and I can’t help diving in and getting lost in them.

Here I hold the holy grail to Everett’s defense, and a small, selfish part of me says don’t give it. Let him go away so I can have Lottie all to myself. And try as I might to stomp