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

Everett’s nostrils flare at the thought. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“We’ll make this quick,” I whisper, landing a slice of pizza to each of our plates.

Carlotta leans toward her friend. “All right, Cadillac. What else is on order for Flo’s big day?”

Cat slaps her hands together. “Okay, listen up, girls. It’s getting down to the nitty-gritty. I called Russo’s Funeral Home today, and they’ve got one more of those pastel blue caskets with the silver trim all around it. I put a deposit down on it, and we’re looking at an in-ground plot on the north side of the cemetery. Any objections?”

Flo shrieks like a banshee as she swipes an entire pizza off the table and sends it flying in Cat Canelli’s direction. So I do the only thing I can think of—I leap out of my seat in hopes to intercept it with my body.

It’s as if all of time slows down. The extra-large menace comes at me while slowly parting into pieces midair, and don’t think that display of stringy cheese stretching to perfection isn’t making my mouth water. And in one fell splat, I’ve got a cheesy, saucy addition to this maternity tent I’ve landed myself in.

“Hey!” Cat barks at the waitress. “Watch where you’re going. Clean the girl up and bring out a couple of tiramisus.”

In a moment I’ve got an entire waitstaff plucking pizza slices out of my hair, and both Everett and Noah are wild-eyed and more than slightly miffed that I landed myself in the pepperoni predicament to begin with.

“It was Flo,” I whisper to them. “I don’t think she’s happy with the casket.”

“You bet your life I’m not, Lottie Lemon.” Flo glides in close with her eyes narrowed over me like a couple of red flames. “I’m not getting shoved in no blue and silver box. The only reason Aunt Cat chose that clamshell of horror is because Trina Ricardo was buried in one last month. Cat’s had the hots for Trina’s dad, Lorenzo, for as long as I can remember. And pushing me off in the north end of the cemetery? She doesn’t care about my final resting place. She knows darn well I’ve earned myself a spot in the family mausoleum. She’s just afraid if she gives it to me, there won’t be room in there for her.”

Cat and Connie whisper amongst themselves before Cat picks up her knife and fork and pounds the table with them.

“Y’all shut up now,” she calls out, and the entire table all but stops breathing.

Noah leans in. “I bet Everett conducts his courtroom in just the same manner.”

Everett leans in my way as well. “I’ve resorted to it a time or two. It gets the job done.”

Cat takes a breath. “So it’s settled. Gold dress, bouffant, baby blue casket, north lawn, and the wake will be at the Italian American Club down the street.”

“What?” Flo roars so loud my ears threaten to bleed. “That dress is hideous! I’m not about to stand here while they turn me into some coffin clown. The bouffant is enough to make me want to drag one of them to paradise with me. And I’m not having my wake at the freaking hall. Sofia Garbanzo had a full-on formal event at Kenicky’s Steakhouse when she kicked the bucket, and I’m not settling for anything but the best.”

She lets out another riotous roar before storming past me, and before we know it, the table is flipped on its side, sending the Pope’s head flying like a missile right out of that glass box.

The entire room watches as it tumbles through the air like a football. Women are screaming, hair is rattling—odd, I know—and even Sinatra seems to be holding an elongated note in honor of the catastrophe at hand.

“I got it! I got it!” Carlotta shouts as she runs backward, holding her hands out, ready to clamp over the pontiff’s primal apex, but Flo bats it up a notch and it smacks Cat Canelli right on the forehead.

“That’s what you get!” Flo riots before zooming back my way, and I give both Noah and Everett’s hand a squeeze as the melee continues around us. “I want my body taken out of that morgue tonight or I’m going to turn this entire state upside down—and your little lives, too!”

Carlotta shudders. “We’d better do as she says, Lot.”

“No way,” Everett doesn’t mind protesting the effort. “Tell her to find another way to get her needs met. There’s not a threat she can make to have that happen.”

Flo grunts as she floats in close. Her hair shimmers with a spray of stars, a little pink mixed in with the onyx for good measure, and it’s a mesmerizing sight.

“I know how to handle men like you, Judge Baxter.” Flo’s lips curl with malevolent intent and my antenna goes up because I can guarantee I won’t like what comes next. “And the best way to do it is through other people. You”—she pokes Noah in the chest—“I’ve got intel on the war about to break out with New Jersey. I’ve got it on good authority that the Canellis and the Lazzaris are teaming up to destroy the Morettis. They’ve invited the Morettis up for a family dinner, and once the bigwigs show, they’re going to mow them all down. Lives will be lost—innocent lives. It’s going to start raining bullets for the next ten years if someone doesn’t step in and intercept it—like, say the Ashford County Sheriff’s Department?”

Noah’s chest widens as he looks my way. “I need the details, Lottie. If we don’t stop this, it could lead to the bloodiest day in Vermont history.”

“No,” Everett grunts. “We don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

Flo belts out a hearty laugh. “All right, Judge Baxter. I was going to save this as the Sampson option, but since you’ve taken us right to the brink—my uncles have got the ability to make it look as if you’re laundering