Pumpkin Pie Parting

by Addison Moore

  I’ve seen it before—a couple teams up to off the competition.

  But this time the competition just happens to be the mother of the soon-to-be bride.

  How could Chanelle do something so monstrous?

  How could she?

  Chapter 16

  The days grow shorter, and the nights grow impossibly long and desperately cold. It always seems that November melts away far faster than necessary. At the juncture we’re at now, it feels like a race to Thanksgiving—and it is. The big cornucopia-filled day is just two sleeps away.

  It’s the afternoon of Trisha Maples’ funeral, and the skies are filled with dark-bellied clouds ready to lance themselves open and pour out a deluge upon our world. Honey Hollow Covenant Church was brimming with bodies, the tears were plentiful, and soon enough the entire congregation moves over to the hall conjoined to the church where there will be refreshments and people can try to process their bereavement.

  Carlson Hall has played host to wedding receptions, baptismal celebrations, and even hosted a birthday party or two, but it seems as of late all we’ve hosted here have been funerals.

  Lily comes my way with an armful of platters, mostly chocolate chip cookies, sugar cookies in the shapes of pumpkins and turkeys to add a tiny festive touch, pumpkin bars, and brownies, too.

  “I think that’s it, Lottie.” Lily blows a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. “That was very nice of you to offer to provide the cookie trays for free.”

  “It’s the least I could do,” I say. “After all, I found the poor woman.” Besides, I would never say this out loud, but you never know what kind of information you could glean at a funeral. I figure most of the suspects should be here. And if anything else, I can get another chance to have a conversation with them. But Detective Ivy Fairbanks will inevitably be here, too. She and Noah used to do the funereal sweeps themselves, keeping both an ear and eye out on the suspects at large.

  Noah.

  My heart breaks just thinking about him. He still thinks I’m having Everett’s baby. That must be killing him—no pun intended.

  I turn toward the door as the crowd keeps funneling in and I see a tall and brightly illuminated specter with glowing green eyes and dimples staring right at me.

  “Noah!” I practically leap in the air at the sight of him. And just like that, he blinks out of existence.

  “Geez, Lottie!” Lily clutches at her chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack. One corpse is enough for the venue, thank you very much.”

  A couple of women turn our way, shocked by Lily’s crass words.

  “I’m sorry,” I hiss. “I was just thinking about him.” My hand rides to my belly.

  If Noah comes back, I’m going to tell him about the baby. I don’t want to whisper the news into the ear of his seemingly lifeless body. I want to see his face light up myself. But then I suppose it’s already lit up supernaturally without my assistance, but nevertheless I want to look into his eyes when I tell him we’re about to expand our family. Noah and I are already a family. We just passed our two-month anniversary without a whimper.

  Lily hitches a dark strand of hair behind her ear, her features softening my way. “I’m sorry you’re going through this, Lottie. Maybe you should spend more time with Everett to get your mind off things for a while? Grieving Noah like this can be extremely stressful.” She spots someone in the crowd and points their way. “Look at Cormack.”

  I crane my neck until I find her pawing all over Topper Blakley.

  Lily leans in. “She’s found someone to lean on. Trust me, and take a page out of Cormack’s book. That’s what you need. Or you’ll just lose your mind and start shouting Noah’s name for no reason at all.”

  “Funny. But I’m not taking anything out of Cormack’s book. It’s probably written backwards and she’s reading it upside down.”

  “Think about it,” she says, taking the keys to the van from me. “I’m heading back to the bakery. I’ll see you later. Hitch a ride home with Everett.” She nods behind me. “Before he moves onto someone else.”

  I turn and find Everett with his own blonde pawing all over him. I’m about to head over when I nearly knock the coffee right out of some poor girl’s hand.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry!” I help stabilize the Styrofoam cup before looking up, only to find Annette Havershem. “Annette—I mean, Nettie.” It bubbles from me unexpectedly. After all, she did invite me to use her nickname that last time we met. “I’m surprised to see you here. That was very nice of you to come.”

  She averts her eyes. “I’m here because my aunt asked me to. And I like Chanelle.” She shrugs. Her hair is swept up into a partial ponytail, partial chignon combo and she has a trio of rhinestones pushed in just above her ear. She has on a dark stole and a dark dress, and even if she’s not grieving Trisha, she sure is playing the part.

  “That’s really kind of you. I had a chance to meet Chanelle. She seems really nice. It’s a shame she and her mother didn’t get along.”

  Her chest bounces as she swallows down a laugh. “How could they? Chanelle had so much pent-up vengeance against her mother she actually snatched that cheesy boyfriend out from under her.”

  Ha. She just collaborated Jade’s story. So it’s true. Chanelle was hiding something from me. I wonder what else she’s hiding?

  A thought comes to me. Chanelle says she saw Trisha and Leo arguing. I myself saw Leo dragging Trisha away. I wonder if that’s enough evidence for Ivy to interrogate Leo further?

  I spot him across the room as he laughs it up with my mother. My God, my mother had better not even think of tacking him onto her already colorful lineup of suitors.

  “Nettie?” I lean in before doing a quick sweep of the vicinity. “Did you happen to see Leo arguing with Trisha just before she was murdered? Or maybe with your aunt? Something really upset her and sent her running for the parking lot.”

  “No.” She shudders as if reliving a bad memory. “Actually, my aunt mentioned something about getting a sweater out of Trisha’s car. I guess she left it at the shelter and Trisha picked it up for her. They often break a sweat while working in the kitchen and my aunt is notorious for wearing five or six layers. I’m just glad she didn’t go out there with a killer on the loose. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Aunt Gerrie.”

  Gerrie needed something from the parking lot? A lure maybe?

  I scan the hall for her, but the crowd is so thick it’s like looking for a gray-headed needle in a silver haystack.

  “Nettie, you don’t think Chanelle had anything to do with this, do you?”

  She inches back as if I had just threatened her. “Are you kidding? Trisha and Chanelle might not have gotten along, but she’s not a killer.” She glares at someone across the room. “And contrary to popular opinion, neither am I.”

  I follow her gaze all the way to Jade Pope and Chanelle.

  “I’ll see you at the shelter in a couple of days, Lottie. You’ll have to excuse me. I have someone to speak to.” She takes off in a huff, and I turn around and head straight for Everett to find the blonde bimbo still trying to adhere herself to his side.

  “Everett,” I say brightly as I take up his hand.

  His eyes enlarge for a moment. “Cressie was just talking about how she’s fallen on hard times.”

  “Cressie?” I ask, amused—and, okay, I’m a little bit perturbed by the fact he’s throwing out old nicknames.

  His lips cinch to the side as if to apologize, and I shoot her the side-eye. Her floor-length royal blue dress says formal, but that flirty slit that runs all the way up to her thighs—on both sides—screams sleazy nightclub in Leeds.

  “That’s right.” Cressida’s head lolls my way. Her hair shines like platinum, her pretty blue eyes have a glassy appeal, and her skin looks so luminescent that if I didn’t know better, I’d bet she were dead. But I’m not that lucky.

  I frown at my own poor taste. Of course, I don’t wish the girl was dead, but is a faint memory too
much to ask for?

  Cormack pops up, sans her new sugar daddy. Her microscopic little black dress looks more appropriate for clubbing than a funeral, but then I suppose she didn’t quite know Trisha as well as she knew Chanelle perhaps. Honestly, I have no idea why she’s here.

  I glance back and find that Topper already has another blonde strapped to his side—my mother.

  Great. Who would have thought that Cormack could end up in a love triangle with both my mother and me? I suppose I should warn my sisters—Meg at least.

  Cormack gives an enthusiastic hop. “What did I miss?”

  I press a wry smile at Everett. “Cressie was just about to fill us in on her misfortune.” I shoot a look to the scheming socialite who’s trying her best to snag my man. “Spill it.”

  Cressida grunts to her old friend, “I’ve had a terrible run of bad luck as you know.” She turns to Everett. “I’ve had to cut back to three vacations a year.”

  Cormack sucks in a quick breath. “Oh, Cressie. I know you had it tough, but I had no idea it was that bad. Why didn’t you say anything? Daddy would have gladly stepped in to save the day. No one would ever want to see you living this way.”

  Cormack’s level of generosity brings new meaning to brother, can you spare a diamond?

  “Wow,” I muse. “Just three? How ever will you survive? May I ask where you’re heading this year?”

  She whimpers as if it were truly painful to discuss. “Somewhere tropical in April and May. Europe for the summer and Vail from January through March.”

  My mouth falls open. She calls that a vacation? I’d call that moving three times a year.

  Everett’s chest rumbles with a dull laugh. “I haven’t had a vacation in eons.”

  Cressida pulls his tie forward in one lusty move. “Oh, please come with. I have so much room at the chalet. It’s a shame to let all that space go to waste. So far, it’s just me and thirty-two of my closest friends.”

  I lean in, waiting for some clue that this is all just a put-on, but she’s as serious as that gunshot wound that landed us all here today.

  Everett winces. “I’m afraid I’ll have to pass. It’s pretty challenging getting a few months off from the courthouse.”

  Cressida clicks her tongue. “I never did understand why you took such a blue-collar job to begin with.”

  Since when was a judge considered blue collar? And what’s wrong with blue-collar jobs anyway?

  Cressida gasps as if she just had a brainstorm. “There’s still room for you on the sailing circuit, you know. I hear Kippy has a space available on his team. You used to love to race.”

  “I didn’t know that about you.” I wrap my arms around Everett and he pulls me in close. “And did you really hang out with a guy named Kippy?”

  His lids hood low. “Do I lose points if I say yes?”

  “Maybe,” I tease.

  He looks to Cressida. “The racing sounds wonderful, but I’m afraid my line of work doesn’t allow for that either. But what it does allow for”— his chest expands between us—“is a nice three-day weekend stay at the Maple Meadows Lodge in just a couple of weeks.”

  Cormack coos at the two of us. “How perfectly romantic. Is that a cozy cottage in France somewhere?”

  Everett looks dismayed by the thought. “It’s in Hollyhock.”

  And just like that, a giant explosion of light ricochets around the room, and standing before us is Noah—questionably alive and well, and sans the flesh.

  I give Everett’s hand a hard squeeze as if to alert him to the fact. I’m not sorry to say we’ll have to cut short our time with the silver spoon sisters.

  Cormack screams as if she just saw Noah herself, and I’m more than mildly alarmed.

  “I just remembered something.” She leans our way. “I saw the two of you leaving the Diamond Stop just as I was headed in. Minerva let me know that the two of you were trying on engagement rings!”

  I gasp as my eyes meet up with Noah’s and I shake my head, trying to refute the idea.

  Cormack bubbles with laughter. “And then, of course, I spotted you coming out of Redwood Realty. A ring and a house? Everett, did you knock this girl up or something?”

  Noah sighs. His shoulders sag in defeat as he quickly begins to dissipate.

  “Noah, wait!” I call out and all eyes are suddenly on me.

  Both Cormack and Cressida turn in the direction I’m howling in as if they were expecting to see him, too.

  “Oh shoot,” Cormack grunts while looking back at what looks to be an argument brewing between Chanelle, Jade, and Nettie. “For a second there, I thought you said ‘Noah, wait,’ but now I see you said ‘no, wait.’ If you’ll excuse me, I need to break this up.”

  Cressida groans, “I’ll help, but I’d better not break a nail.”

  They take off and another celestial entity strides up in their wake. It’s Gemma making her way over with her usual animalistic swagger, her neck jutting to and fro every other step.

  “Oh heavens. I’ve missed it, haven’t I?” She bats those long lashes as she gives a quick look around the vicinity.

  “You didn’t miss much,” I say, looking up at Everett. “But Noah was here for less than a moment. He heard that stuff about the engagement ring and the house, and I guess he couldn’t take it anymore. I’m going to have to go to the hospital and tell him my secret, Everett.”

  He takes a quick breath. “I was hoping he could hear the news in person. I mean without his person—in his ghostly form.”

  Gemma takes a few steps forward. “Why, it looks as if a brawl is breaking out. And at a funeral of all places. Some people have no respect for the dead.”

  We glance over to see Chanelle trying to hold Annette back. And Cormack is restraining Jade.

  “Something is definitely afoot.”

  Before Everett can respond, a tall redheaded detective with a swath of crimson lipstick bears her fangs our way.

  “What’s next in your investigation, Lemon?” Ivy doesn’t mind one bit smearing with sarcasm the nickname Everett has lovingly gifted me.

  “Investigation? What investigation?” I bat my lashes at her innocently. “Last I checked, you’re the trained professional.” I no sooner get the words out than Gemma brays out a storm of laughter.

  “Are you close to making an arrest?” I ask.

  Ivy sniffs the air while looking into the crowd.

  “Why yes, I am, Lottie. You worry about the pies. I’ll worry about catching the bad guys. Let’s just say this. By Thanksgiving, Trisha Maples’ family will have a lot to be thankful for indeed.”

  Everett and I exchange a glance.

  Gemma makes a strangled yelping sound as she bucks and kicks her way through the crowd with glee.

  Ivy seems confident she’s got the killer, and I’m morbidly curious as to who this might be.

  My gaze drifts to the squabbling trio in the back getting ready to throw punches. Next to them stands none other than Leo Workman, his arms folded with confidence as he speaks with my mother and Topper.

  Both Ivy and Leo seem unduly confident in something, and I’m beginning to wonder if they’re on a collision course with each other.

  I suppose it would be convenient to wrap up the investigation before Thanksgiving.

  But something tells me justice isn’t always convenient.

  Chapter 17

  Thanksgiving arrives with all the pomp and circumstance this turkey-riddled day deserves.

  In what turned out to be a beautiful avalanche of generosity, once my mother and sisters heard about me helping out at the shelter this afternoon, they too volunteered to help out—and so did Carlotta, Hook, Forest, Keelie, Bear, Alex, Lily, and Naomi. It’s a full house of Honey Hollow townies helping out those in need of a hand down in Leeds.

  The shelter kitchen and dining room are expansive in size and remind me a lot of the gym back at Honey Hollow High. There are scores of elongated tables set out with pumpkins, fall flowers, and cornucopias
lining the centers of them. Young kids are running around and laughing, and everyone in line waiting to be served is engaged in lively conversation. It’s a darn right festive atmosphere, as it should be.

  I’m dressed head to foot in my fall finery, an emerald green cardigan with matching turtleneck, a pair of cranberry jeans with extra stretch for added comfort, and, of course, I have Ethel, my handy Glock, in a small leather backpack strapped to me. Everett suggested I bring her, and I couldn’t say no. Okay, so he may have insisted, but I didn’t resist. He’s right. There will be a lot of people here today, and Ivy has all but made me a target. It’s better to be safe than sorry.

  Once I finish slicing up a million pumpkin pies, I make my way out to the food line, only to see a sexy judge doling out mashed potatoes with the best of them.

  I head on over and wrap my arms around him from the back.

  “Do you know how hot it is to see a man who’s not afraid to roll up his sleeves?”

  He lifts a brow as he turns my way. “About as hot as it is to see a baker running a knife wildly through her pies? I had a straight shot of you from here and it was quite a sight. You didn’t lose a finger, did you?”

  “Nope. But I did burn some serious calories. I can’t wait to dive into all this delicious food and put them right back where they belong.”

  “Good. And I’m glad to see you have that special purse attached to your body.”

  The special purse is the tiny backpack my sister bought me last Christmas. It’s a bit of a showstopper itself with its black leather and silver buckles. Little did Lainey know it would one day become a glorified gun holster.

  Mom comes up from behind. “Don’t you dare eat one ounce of this feast. This is for those less fortunate than us, Lottie. Our feast is being delivered by the Honey Pot Diner at six, straight to the B&B. Don’t be late, you two!” She takes off with an armful of rolls as she makes her way to the end of the line.

  A spasm of light goes off in the kitchen, and every last cell in my body is hopeful that it’s Noah.