Macaron Massacre (MURDER IN THE MIX Book 10) by Addison Moore

Author:Addison Moore [Moore, Addison]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hollis Thatcher Press, LTD.
Published: 2019-03-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Thursday evening, after facing an entire herd of homicide-hungry tourists who snapped up every macaron in Honey Hollow, Everett picked me up and landed us smack-dab in the middle of the Ashford Convention Center where a packed house sits waiting to listen to Michelle Ireland boss us around on how to live our best lives.

Everett is clad in black, and his tie is a metallic blue that sets off his eyes. I’m just about to compliment him on exactly that when a trio of familiar faces emerges from behind him.

A groan works its way up my throat. “It looks like we weren’t the only ones who managed to score last-minute tickets.”

Everett turns, and we watch as Noah, Britney, and Cormack make their way over.

“Well, look who it is”—I say, lifting my chin at the treasonous trio—“it’s Detective Fox and the Blonde Brigade.”

Everett’s chest bounces as he looks to his old stepbrother. “Looking to expand the harem? There is a sea of single ladies here tonight. Lemon isn’t one of them.”

Cormack nearly sucks in a lung as she yanks forth my left hand. “Why no, she isn’t! Would you look at this sparkler?” Her jaw unhinges as she looks to Everett. “Essex, this is your grandmother’s wedding ring!” She drops my hand like it’s a dead fish. “Why you little Lolita, you wily little thing. I had my eye on that very same piece when I first met the Baxters, and here it’s on your finger. I think I’m going to start calling you Lucky.” She gives a wink accompanied by a high-pitched rhythmic laugh that’s reminiscent of a dolphin braying.

Britney scowls at my ring finger as if it offended her. “A person like you shouldn’t be wearing a cube of ice that big.”

I inch back. “A person like me?”

Noah huffs at his ex, “Explain yourself quickly.”

Everett clicks his tongue. “You’d better do it, Britney, or he might lock you out of the bedroom tonight.”

The thought of Noah’s bedroom being occupied by another female other than me makes me sad—selfishly sad.

Britney wave us all off. “I meant because Lucky isn’t so lucky, after all. In fact, Smack Mack”—she steals a moment to growl at Cormack, and my goodness how I’m loving the quasi-violent nickname—“if you knew how to read people just a bit better, you’d know that Lonely here is quite unlucky.”

“How do you figure?” I’m about to point out that both of the most handsome men in the room happen to have an affection for me, and that makes me feel pretty darn lucky, but think better of it. Smack Mack is liable to pluck her hair out, and mine, at the revelation.

Brit lifts a blood red fingernail. “You find bodies. You solve crimes. You’re a virtual magnet for criminals. That bling is just a setup for a mugging. I’m a firm believer that women shouldn’t wear showy jewelry for just that reason.”

Cormack gasps as if she were just forbidden from decorating herself with baubles from Tiffany’s as if she were a million dollar Christmas tree.

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