Raspberry Tart Terror (Murder in the Mix Book 30) by Unknown (hot novels to read .TXT) 📗

concern myself. What do you think, Foxy? Should we stage a poultry-based intervention?”

“No.” A dull laugh bumps from me as I shake my head at this older, zanier version of the woman I love. “I was thinking we put together a baby shower for her.” I nod over at Everett. “Specifically you.”

Everett doesn’t bother letting me know how he feels with words. Instead, that dark frown says it all.

“You think I should organize Lemon’s baby shower?”

“Yes.” I give a hard nod his way. “You need something to take your mind off of things.”

Carlotta shrugs. “You’ve got a bullet coming to the heart, Sexy. Maybe losing yourself in diaper pails and rattles isn’t the worst idea.”

Everett gives a measured blink. “I’m one step ahead of you. I talked to Miranda this afternoon. She says she’s already on it. Lainey, Meg, and Keelie are helping out, too.”

A croaking sound emits from Carlotta. “What about me? Didn’t anyone think to ask if I wanted to be included in on that good time?”

Everett pulls out his phone. “Actually, Miranda mentioned that she was trying to get in touch with you. She said you blocked her calls.”

Carlotta straightens and gags. “The woman gave me no choice! She kept wanting to know insider secrets on how I made the Vermont’s best-sellers list. She wants me to give her writing tips. She wants me to look over her work. I can’t just go blabbing all my best-kept secrets to everyone out there, or soon every writer in Vermont will be on that best-sellers list and it won’t mean a thing.”

“I’ll bite,” I say. “What’s your secret?”

“Whiskey.”

“Good to know,” I say. A rustle comes from down the hall from the room that will be the nursery, and I look over at Everett. “When’s the baby shower?”

“Three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” I inch back. “That’s next month. Why the delay? Lottie’s due next month, too.”

“She’s due at the end of next month,” he says. “Miranda thinks there will be plenty of time. Besides, she was having a hard time choosing a venue, so I told her she could have it here or at the bakery if she needed to. She’s not sure she can book the B&B.”

Carlotta snorts. “Three weeks, eh? I’ll tell you why they delayed it. That buys Miranda three extra weeks to try to hack into my laptop. The woman is relentless.”

“Carlotta.” My cheeks flicker. “I hardly think Miranda poses a cyber threat to you.”

“What do you know?” She steps in close. “I bet you hardly thought Sexy posed a cyber threat to you, and now look who’s been sentenced to a life without fun bags?” She leans in another notch. “Worse yet, someone else is playing with your fun bags.”

“Mom!” Evie shouts as she heads this way with both Pancake and Waffles in her arms. “They’re talking about your boobs. Hurry up before I stick my head in the sink and drown myself.”

Lottie waddles out of her bedroom and tosses a stack of sheets onto the dining room table.

“Carlotta,” she hisses. “Are you telling lies about my boobs again?” She makes a face at me. “Noah, my nipples are not the size of dinner plates.”

I invert my lips to keep from laughing. “She didn’t say a thing about dinner plates.” My eyes drift south of her face for a moment, and suddenly I’m hungry for dinner.

Evie hands Pancake to Lottie. “She called them fun bags.”

“Carlotta!” Lottie’s eyes bug out before she forces a smile at Evie. “Boobs are not playthings for boys. They’re functional. They’re specifically designed to feed infants. In fact, speaking of which, I sprang a leak two days ago.”

“You sprang a leak?” I ask, not sure what level of terror I should feel over this.

She nods. “Dr. Barnette said not to worry. My milk has just come in early. It’s totally common, but it hasn’t happened since. There’s nothing to worry about, Noah.”

“Uh-huh,” Carlotta muses. “Nothing to worry about, Foxy, because she’s got Sexy to stop up that leak. She’s got a live-in plumber right there in her bedroom. See there? That’s where letting down your guard gets you. You never should have let the two of them cross paths. Word of advice: I’d block Sexy’s number before it’s too late.”

“Duly noted,” I say as I frown over at the self-appointed plumber among us. “Although, in all fairness, Lottie didn’t meet Everett because of me. If I really wanted to unravel the fact they crossed paths, I’d have to arrange for her to never have met her old landlord who dragged her into court to begin with.”

“Eh.” Carlotta’s shoulders jump. “This is Lot Lot we’re talking about. I’m sure she would have landed before a judge sooner or later.”

“Touché.” I nod.

“Touché indeed.” Everett nods along with me.

“Hey.” Lottie swats us both on the arm. “Never mind me or my leaky fun bags. Evie, what does the text say?”

Evie takes a hard breath before handing me her phone. “They’re, like, creepy.” She shudders. “You read them, Uncle Noah.”

A series of messages pop up, and I read the first one.

“The show is over,” I say. “Payment is due.” I exchange a quick glance with Everett and Lottie.

“What’s the next one say?” Lottie pants the words out, and I can tell this is already more than she needs to deal with.

This one is even more cryptic than the last, and I cringe at the thought of having to read it out loud.

“I know where you live,” I say it low. “I know who you care about. Hashtag hot baker, hot judge, hot cop.”

Lottie gasps and Everett’s jaw redefines itself in anger, but my eyes flit right back to the screen at that final message I have zero desire to verbally convey.

Evie nods. “Go on, Uncle Noah.”

“There’s more?” Lottie does her best to peer over, and I pull the phone close.

“There’s one more.” I shoot Everett an unsure look, and his eyes harden over the phone.

Everett is a smart guy. I bet he knows exactly where this is