Lethal Lemon Bars: MURDER IN THE MIX 9 by Moore Addison

Author:Moore, Addison
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hollis Thatcher Press, LTD.
Published: 2019-02-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

A Friday night in Honey Hollow for most folks usually consists of dinner out, maybe a movie, or maybe a wholesome stroll around Honey Lake. A Friday night in Leeds usually consists of secret societies, mob dealings, and strip clubs. Tonight, we happen to be at an establishment that incorporates a little bit of all three of Leeds’ deadliest sins, the Leeds Can-Can Room.

Despite its rather generic moniker, it’s actually pretty ritzy inside—that is, if you’re into hot pink and black satin décor. The Can-Can Room is a rather large restaurant with a stage built in at the front. It’s dimly lit inside with a flickering candle dotting each table, and the entire place holds the scent of pizza, which doesn’t surprise me since the dish sits prominently at the top of the menu.

The four of us have just ordered our dinners, and the show has yet to begin. And by the four of us, I mean Everett and me and Noah and Cormack. Yes, he had the nerve to bring her along as his official plus one. Last night he happened to drop my car off in my driveway just as I was traipsing home, clad in Everett’s bathrobe, my hair sopping wet. Suffice it to say, he wasn’t thrilled when he put the coital pieces together.

This is either his version of revenge or he simply can’t shake Cormack. Personally, I strongly think it’s the latter.

“And look at this one.” She shows off her newest death threat on her phone. She hands a picture of it off to her new boyfriend. “It says steer clear or else.”

“Steer clear of what?” I don’t even pretend to look horrified.

Her blonde hair is slicked back into a sleek bun, and she’s wearing a sheer blue gown that makes her look like a knockout despite the fact she’s horrendously overdressed.

Her eyes grow in size. “Of…I don’t know—a handbag sale? Your bakery? The killer?”

I avert my gaze at the thought. “Okay, so here’s the deal. I don’t believe you. I don’t believe a single threat you’ve received. I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I have to go with my gut on this one.”

Both Noah and Everett offer me pensive stares.

Cormack coughs and sputters. “What do you mean you don’t believe me? You actually think I’m sending these threats to myself?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

Her mouth falls open, and I reach over and pluck the cherry from her fruity cocktail and drop it right into that wide maw of hers.

Cormack pretends to choke in an effort to snag Noah’s attention just as Maximillian Finmore glides on over. He’s tall, conventionally handsome, and has that supernatural glow about him—and oddly, he’s grinning from ear to ear.

“It’s about time you showed up!” I hiss as I pick up Everett’s hand so he can listen in on the otherworldly conversation.

“I’m sorry.” Max wisely floats between Everett and me so it will look as if we’re talking to each other. “I guess you can say I’ve been delightfully detained.” His brows waggle suggestively, and both Everett and I exchange a look.

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