Killer Cupcakes by Addison Moore

Author:Addison Moore [Moore, Addison]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hollis Thatcher Press, LTD.
Published: 2019-05-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Thankfully, Everett and I manage to beat Noah to my mother’s B&B.

We head on in and the ghost of Greer Giles is the first to greet us.

“Oh, we’ve got trouble.” She gives a cheeky wink. And just as I’m about to pick up Everett’s hand so he can listen in, I realize he’s already holding my hand and my heart warms despite the impending doom Greer is spelling out.

“What kind of trouble?” Everett asks as we slow down for a brief moment.

“Miranda has herself a hottie,” Greer trills with glee. “A bona fide silver fox with a real tan and all of his original teeth right where they’re supposed to be!”

“That’s the trouble?” I ask, glancing around, unsure of what direction to head in next.

“Oh yes.” Greer fans herself with her fingers. “It’s the exact kind of trouble your mama likes. Let’s be honest, me too!” She gives a ghostly chortle that vibrates straight to my bones. Props to Greer for finally getting this haunting gig down pat.

“Where is the lucky lady?” I ask. “I’ve got news for her. Miranda Lemon’s luck is about to run out.”

I turn to head toward the conservatory, but Greer blocks me off at the pass—not that I can’t walk straight through her but choose to respect her hostage-like wishes.

“What is it, Greer?” I snip. “Noah is on his way to make an arrest, and I need to shake my mother silly until she comes up with a decent alibi.” Did I just say alibi? I look to Everett as if I just asked the question out loud and he shrugs.

“It works,” he grunts as he looks at the dead space before me. Just because he can hear Greer doesn’t mean he can see her. “Where’s Miranda? I’d like a moment to give her some advice before the homicide detective exerts his prowess.”

The thought of Noah exerting his prowess makes my entire body heat with the memory of his touch.

Greer moans, “She’s in the pantry. But before either of you pass judgment, you should probably know she hasn’t been this excited about anyone in months.”

“The pantry?” The words extricate from my throat with a certain heft only an exasperated daughter can provide.

I glide through Greer on my way to the kitchen, and Everett is right there with me when I fling the pantry door open with a lurch—promptly and wisely squeezing my eyes shut when I see the fleshy sight.

“Geez!” Everett barks, and I hear the pantry door slam shut and a string of salty expletives coming from the other side—all delivered by my salty and all too saucy mother.

Everett pulls me to the side. “I think I might have sustained an injury to the rods and cones.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, blinking back to life just as my mother and an older gentleman come tumbling out of the poor innocent pantry, struggling to adjust their clothes.

If the health department knew about my mother’s sexual shenanigans, they’d nail the doors and windows shut before sprinkling the property with gasoline.

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