Baby Bundt Cake Confusion (Murder in the Mix Book 31) by Unknown (reading eggs books .txt) 📗

for their annual St. Patrick’s Day Festival where Ariella Kellerman has been serving as a volunteer for years.

Noah called her this afternoon asking if she wouldn’t mind catching a cup of coffee and she offered to share green beer instead. Here’s hoping we can scoop some details out of her that just might lead to the killer.

We file out of the van only to be stabbed by the artic wind that’s blowing every which way. Carlotta hops out last and barks like a seal to get our attention.

“Nobody moves a muscle until you’ve been appropriately outfitted for a sacred holiday such as this.” She produces a large tote bag and starts throwing green beaded necklaces with giant four-leaf clovers dangling from them, green felt stove pipe hats with big black buckles, and furry orange beards our way.

The entire lot of us quickly outfit ourselves with the festive accessories and take a moment to stare at one another while somewhere in the vicinity someone plays the bagpipes—and if I had to guess, I’d say there was a drunk at the helm of that winded instrument.

Evie giggles my way. “You look good with a beard, Mom.”

“Good thing.” Carlotta gives a wistful tick of her head. “You got the real deal coming your way when you turn forty, Lot. We’ll be saying Lordy, Lordy, look who’s forty—the bearded woman, that’s who!”

“Is that what they chanted on your fortieth, Carlotta?” I ask with more than a note of suspicion.

She gives a hard sniff. “What can I say? I ran with an honest crowd.”

Evie comes over and offers me a warm embrace. “Don’t worry, Mom. Cressi-duh may not have left me with much, but I still have the name of her esthetician.” She crimps her lips a moment. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten your birthday is in just a few days. I’ll make sure they zap off your mustache, too.”

“Thank you? I think,” I say as my fingers float to my upper lip, and I pet my peach fuzz.

“No problem.” Evie gives a heartfelt blink. “I want to apologize for my childish behavior last night. Of course, I don’t want to run amok on the beach with wild boys and endless booze.” She winks over at her blond boyfriend who just so happens to be built like a brick house, Conner Saint. Yes, that’s his surname. And both Everett and I are hoping he lives up to it. Conner is on the Honey Hollow High football team and Evie is a cheerleader. It’s a match made in sports heaven. She turns my way once again. “And I can’t wait for our little sugar cookie to get here. I know you plan on letting it hang off your boobs till it’s like twelve, but I plan on changing a diaper or two. Just number one, of course. We’ve got Dad and Uncle Noah to pick up the slack with number two.”

“Aw, thank you, Evie.” Tears mist my eyes. “You don’t know how happy that makes me to hear it.”

Her blonde bestie, Dash, wraps an arm around Evie’s shoulder. “I told her she needed to cut you some slack. And that she wouldn’t want to miss out on watching you have the baby. My aunt had a kid last month, and I watched her lady parts explode like a stick of dynamite and splatter all over her living room. She had a homebirth. She didn’t want anyone telling her she couldn’t eat a box of crullers while she was trying to push the little beast out.”

“Oh.” I suppress the urge to shudder. “That’s, um, lovely.”

“We’ll catch you later!” Evie shouts. “If the kid tries to crawl out early, text me!”

Carlotta chuckles. “What do you know, Lot? I had a homebirth with you, too. I guess I was ahead of my time. Only I wasn’t noshing on crullers. Cat Canelli whipped up some funny brownies to help take the edge off.”

“Did it work?”

No sooner do I ask the question than Noah frowns over at me.

“What?” I say. “Baking is in my wheelhouse, and I’m not opposed to exploring the benefits of recreational drugs for the occasion either. I may not be able to help the fact my lady parts are about to blow up, but if I can numb my brain, I might just do it.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat garners our attention, and I look over to see Everett standing there looking mind-numbingly handsome in his dark coat and his hands buried in his pockets as he inspects the three of us for a moment.

“Looking good,” he says, but nary a smile crests his lips. Not that it would. I’ve had to fight for every smile with that man, and do I ever love the challenge. “I’d ask if I missed anything, but I’m afraid you’ll fill me in.” Everett drove out on his own in the event his car blew up on the way.

“Aw shucks, Sexy. This is all I’ve got left to give you.” Carlotta reaches down into her bag of magic tricks and comes up with an oversized button that reads Kiss me, I’m Irish!

“Nope.” I take the pin and attach it to Carlotta’s lime green puffer jacket. “You can have fun with this one.”

“I will, Lot,” she’s quick to tell me. “Harry’s meeting me here. I told him I’d be with the weirdo with the beardo.” She hitches a thumb my way as she winks at Everett. “That way he’ll know how to find me.”

“I’m not keeping this orange beard on, Carlotta,” I say as the four of us head off for the crowded street in front of us. But no sooner do I pluck it down a notch than the icy wind licks at my chin, so I place that red facial fuzz right back where it belongs. “But maybe I’ll keep it on for just a teeny bit. You know, in an effort to blend in.” And to keep my face from freezing right off my body.

The street before