Murder in the Mix Boxed Set 28-30: Cozy Mystery by Addison Moore (books for 7th graders .txt) 📗

Candy was playing the part of emcee at the Christmas Angels auction. She knew Gloria Abner. And as someone important in the organization they both belonged to, I’m betting she knows more than a little about Gloria. Who knows, she might even know some of the secrets Elodie hinted at.

The club is both flashy and trashy, with its dark glossy floors, white tables, and booths with Roman columns strewn senselessly about, and each column is backlit a pale shade of green. There’s a forty-foot ceiling at least, where rows and rows of opulent chandeliers hang at an even spacing. It’s the kind of venue you could use for a wedding reception if you wanted. It’s definitely someplace where you can host a party, and judging by the incredible density of the crowd, that party is happening tonight. Most of the booths and tables outline the periphery, and the center of the establishment is filled with couples dancing to holiday-inspired tunes. Half the women here have on a headband with two plastic candy canes bobbing from it like a pair of antennae. And each one lights up in turn.

We hit the table just as the women seated at it explode with laughter. Each woman here holds a socialite appeal, with their stiff faces, puffy lips, excessive amounts of cosmetics, and foot long lashes. They’re all wearing some form of the requisite little black dress, and they all seem to be engaged in lively conversations with one another. And, of course, they’ve each donned a pair of those candy cane light up antlers on their heads. I won’t lie. I want one.

“Lorado!” Cormack howls my faux name while waving me over. “Don’t worry, ladies. We’ve got you covered.” She motions us to three open seats across from them and quickly hands us each a pair of light up candy canes to plop on our heads.

Cressida floats a set of menus our way. “I can tell you’re ravenous, Lima. God forbid we starve Noah’s child,” she says as she winks over at Cormack.

“You mean Everett’s child,” Cormack bites back before offering a sickly sweet smile my way. “The watercress salad is my go-to when I’m famished.”

Carlotta shakes her head as she peruses the appetizers on the menu. “I’m afraid my Lot Lot isn’t a fan of lawn clippings. She takes after me in that respect.”

Keelie makes a face at the laminated sheet before us. “Three cherry tomato salad? Asparagus with lemon? There’s nothing here I want to eat either. That’s strange, though. I could have sworn I smelled something amazing as soon as we walked through the door.”

Cressida and Cormack whisper to one another while sneaking glances and secretive smiles my way. I’ve no doubt they’re cooking something up their snobby sleeves, but I don’t care because seated to my right is Candy Brighton.

It’s as if Christmas came early. If all goes well in the next few minutes, I could have all the info I need and Carlotta and I can boot scoot our way back to Honey Hollow before anyone has a chance to miss us.

Candy leans in with her caramel tresses cut in a cute shag style that frames her face and cascades in glorious waves down her shoulders. Her eyes glow a pale shade of amber in this dull light, and there’s something charming about her even in this crowd of women that sets her apart. She reminds me of the kind of girl that everyone wanted to be friends with in high school, the kind that went on to rule the sorority roost in college, and then goes on to host all of the fabulous parties for her glamorous friends.

I was the girl stuffing her face with cream puffs in high school while my boyfriend bopped around with other girls behind my back.

Candy leans my way. “If you want something hearty, you’ll have to order off the secret menu. I’d go for the wild macaroni and cheese, if you like to live dangerously.”

Carlotta chuckles. “Living dangerously is Lot Lot’s middle name. I say we take two.”

A waitress comes by, and we do just that. Carlotta offered to share hers with Keelie because she didn’t want me to bite her niece’s arm off if she dared take a bite. It might be a little true. I’ve never been so ravenously hungry the way I have been with my little sugar cookie in my belly.

The waitress offers to pick us up something from the bar as well. It turns out, they only serve appetizers and hard liquor, so I throw in a drink called Mistletoe at the North Pole—virgin, of course. It’s basically a glorified mint julep wearing a holiday disguise. I’m sure both Noah and Everett would approve, however, I’m almost certain the two of them would protest the company I’ve chosen to spend my evening with—Carlotta and Keelie withstanding. Okay, so maybe just Keelie.

As soon as the waitress does a disappearing act, I turn to Candy.

“You look familiar.” I squint over at her as if trying to place her just as a spray of tiny red and green stars appears over her left shoulder, and sure enough, Kringle appears in all of his posthumous glory.

“Are we having a party?” He grips his plump belly as he sits on his hind legs. “I haven’t eaten a thing since I’ve been at the bakery, and I’m half-starved because of it.”

Me and you both, I want to say.

He twitches his whiskers toward Candy. “I smell a killer in our midst, Lottie. Has she done the deed?”

I shrug over at him.

“I’ll get it out of her yet,” he says, running up the side of her neck and tickling her ear with his tail.

Candy rubs the side of her head and shudders.

“You look familiar, too.” She nods my way while looking past me at Carlotta. “Hey!” Her affect brightens. “Weren’t you the highest bidder for the painting we auctioned