Murder in the Mix Boxed Set 28-30: Cozy Mystery Addison Moore (the reading strategies book .txt) 📖

“Don’t worry, kid,” Bear looks her way. “You’ll be enjoying that en suite bedroom of yours before senior year. My goal is to finish some time next summer.”

Flo steps over. “Speaking of next summer, are we going after my killer or not? Wrap this up, girls. I know for a fact my witches are meeting up at Gia’s House for a sit-down and a pizza. We gotta get over there before we miss the good stuff. And believe me, Lottie Lemon, I don’t like being on a spiritual leash, so you’ll get a move on if you know what’s good for you.”

I don’t bother to hide my frown. I’m not sure which is worse, having a rush job done on my house or being threatened by the very ghost whose murder I’m trying to solve. On second thought, it’s jury duty that takes that horrible cake.

“It’s dinnertime.” I look to Carlotta. “We’d better get a move on.”

“Don’t worry, Lottie.” Keelie helps untie my apron. “I’ll close up shop with Lily tonight. You go enjoy yourself.”

“Keelie, you don’t have to do that,” I say. “You should get home to the baby.”

“No way.” Keelie shudders. “He won’t be in bed for another hour and a half. And he gets real mean about it, too.”

Bear nods. “We like to steer clear until my mother has the situation handled.”

“That’s right,” Keelie says. “Then we sneak in the back door and don’t make a sound, just hoping he’ll sleep through the night. But he doesn’t.” She looks despondent at the thought. “And I don’t think he ever will.”

Carlotta grins up at me. “See whatcha got to look forward to? A baby bomb going off at all hours of the night.”

Evie glances back at Bear. “I want soundproof walls. Spare no expense on top-of-the-line materials. I can’t risk my beauty sleep.”

Carlotta slaps her hand to the counter. “I second that.”

Bear takes a breath. “Okay, but it’ll cost you twice as much for the drywall.”

Everett’s eyes widen a notch as he looks to Bear. “We’ll talk.” His chest expands as he looks my way. “Lemon, let’s do dinner.”

We wrap it up and head into the icy cold night as I try to think of a way to lose Everett and Evie so Carlotta and I can get to Gia’s house, whoever that may be.

And here I was hoping having Flo around would make this investigation a breeze.

I also thought I was going to get out of jury duty.

Turns out, I was wrong on both counts.

Chapter 7

Gia’s House is a restaurant out in Leeds that sits about a block from Red Satin Gentlemen’s Club, the Canellis’ famed hotspot.

Gia’s House is more or less a club or a lounge with a dimly lit smoky interior. The floors are comprised of dark-stained plywood, the walls are covered with gilded frames filled with pictures of the old country—people, places, animals with their faces shoved in a plate of spaghetti—and Sinatra blares from the speakers. The thick scent of garlic and roasted tomato sauce hit us hard as soon as we stepped into the place, and oddly enough, it didn’t send me running in an effort to bow down before the nearest porcelain throne. Hey? Maybe my nausea up and did a disappearing act?

A waitress walks by with a platter full of pasta with tentacles sticking out of it every which way, and my stomach does a quick revolution to remind me who’s really in control.

A dull moan comes from me as I clamp my hand over my belly.

“Lemon?” Everett gives my hand a squeeze. “Everything okay?”

“I’m fine.” I take a deep breath and force myself to power through it. “I just need to get my bearings.”

We dropped Evie off at the house for an impromptu study group she has meeting there. As soon as she heard her parents would be gone for hours, she suddenly had a hankering for geometry—and her boyfriends. Dash will be there, too, but that didn’t make me feel any better.

Of course, once we found out Gia’s House was some hopping club in Leeds, Everett wasn’t about to let me venture off to the dark side on my own. And knowing Carlotta was going to be with me didn’t make him feel any better either. Can’t blame him for that one.

“Trust me, I’m fine,” I say as a waitress comes over and stops cold once she sees Everett.

“Holy mother of all things fried,” the woman in the short green skirt quips. She has dark curly hair that looks wet and yet crunchy to the touch at the very same time, and her face is made up to the nines with two-inch long lashes and red-hot lips.

I don’t need to be a mind reader to know where she’d like for those red-hot lips to end up.

She bats her lashes up at my hubby. “How’s it going, hot stuff?”

Flo grunts, “That’s Nab Your Man Nicole. Tell her you’ll seat yourself and then give her the evil eye so she doesn’t come sniffin’ around again.”

Flo’s hair is teeming with tiny onyx-colored stars tonight, her face glows like the moon, and her beauty looks ever so much sharper as if she, too, dropped by home to spruce up for dinner.

“We’ll seat ourselves,” I tell the woman as I pull Everett in close by way of his arm. But as it turns out, I don’t have the heart to give her the evil eye.

“Have it your way, honey.” Nab-Your-Man Nicole whips out her notepad, scribbling something over it before handing it to Everett. “Here’s my numba. Use it, don’t lose it. I’m certified in Pilates. I specialize in six way stretches.” She gives a sly wink before taking off.

I can’t help but scoff in her wake. “Can you believe that?”

Flo rolls her eyes. “Oh hon, you’re not in Kansas anymore. You should have left that hottie at home to warm the bed. And yet you’ve brought