Eggnog Trifle Trouble

by Addison Moore

  “Don’t answer that, Noah.” I glower over at Carlotta.

  Meg leans in. “Before things get heated and you drag the detective off to smooch and make up, I think you should know Evie and her friends are having dinner in the next room. They wanted to toss some blades, but they’re too young. Hook and I bought ’em a round of eggnog and some nachos.”

  “Ooh, thank you. I’ll let them have some time to themselves before I head that way.” I glance to Chris and note that a glowing metaphysical mouse has attached itself to the handle of that axe he just tossed to the wall.

  Kringle lets out a shrill cry as he hurtles through the air and lands with a thud as the blade of that axe hits square over the bullseye.

  Our small group offers him a spontaneous applause.

  Noah leans in. “Go ahead and do your thing, Lottie. I’ll be throwing axes at Carlotta.”

  “You mean with,” I correct, and he gives a slight shake of the head as the two of them take off to the booth.

  Meg and Hook migrate over to Chris, and I move right along with them.

  “Great shot,” I tell him as Hook slaps him on the back.

  Chris Holiday is tall, sturdy, and pleasing to the eyes with his affable smile and honey-brown hair. He has on a sensible brown sweater and matching chinos and looks like your textbook accountant in just about every way.

  “Chris, this is Meg’s sister, Lottie,” Hook says as he winks my way.

  “Nice to meet you.” He offers me a quick handshake. “You look familiar,” he says as Meg shuttles Hook to the front of the booth, and they both outfit themselves with weaponry.

  “I was at the Evergreen Manor for the Christmas Angels fundraiser,” I tell him as a spray of red and green miniature stars appears between us, and Kringle the revenant rodent materializes, looking a little green around the gills—or chubby cheeks as it were.

  “Oh, Lottie.” Kringle grips the adorable roll of fat around his waist. “It looked like a good idea at the moment. I thought it would be like that hamster wheel Gloria put in my cage. But it was more like the time I snuck into a dirty sock and ended up in the spin cycle. That’s what did me in, you know. The last words I heard my Gloria say as she held my lifeless body in her hands were, ‘Poor Kringle. He’s all washed up.’”

  A mournful smile comes to my lips. She wasn’t wrong. And just hearing about young Gloria makes me that much more motivated to catch her killer.

  Chris gives a side glance to the crowd bustling past us.

  “That was an unfortunate fundraiser. Didn’t do much fundraising with the exception of selling that painting. Wait a minute…” He squints past me. “I think that’s the woman who won that monstrosity.”

  “That’s my mother.” I’m not typically so quick to claim Carlotta as my anything without an in-depth explanation that involves a side trip to the Honey Hollow Fire Department and the Lemons, but for the sake of brevity, that’s all I’ve got. “And she loves the painting. We live together, so it’s hanging in my living room—ghost and all.”

  His brows flex. “Ghost, huh?”

  Kringle floats in front of him. “He’s not a believer, Lottie. I can see it in his eyes.” Kringle wiggles his front paws in front of Chris and blows a raspberry with his tongue as if he were mocking the man.

  “Ghost.” I nod. “So where did you get the painting anyhow?”

  His lips part as he takes a breath. “Let’s just say it fell into my hands.”

  Kringle shakes his head. “He’s not revealing his sources. But we’ve got bigger fish to fry. Ask if he killed Gloria and then let’s head to the kitchen and see if they have any fried fish.”

  My stomach growls, indicating it’s not a bad idea.

  “I take it you knew the victim.” I shrug his way.

  “Gloria?” He frowns as he says her name. “Yup. I knew her. She always had a hand in every fire. Sad to say it, but I’m not terribly surprised she got burned.”

  “Really? What kind of fires? My boyfriend’s mother is a part of the Christmas Angels, too. I’m always looking out for her, and if there’s trouble in that group, I’d love to be made aware of it.” I spouted off so many inadvertent fibs in that little ditty, I lost count. But then, who the heck cares? If you take enough U-turns in that conversation, the fibs are mostly true.

  Chris shrugs. “Gloria, God rest her soul, was a bit of a drama mama. She needed to be in control of all things, but the thing she didn’t realize was that an organization like the Christmas Angels had a lot of moving parts and we relied on many different people. It’s a volunteer effort and I hate to say it, but she chased off a lot of good people, too.”

  “She didn’t chase off Elodie Frost.” I try throwing her under the bus first. Here’s hoping Chris is in on her secret.

  A dull laugh bounces through his chest. “She wouldn’t. You ever hear that saying, keep your friends close and your enemies closer? Elodie had some dirt on Gloria. I don’t know who was driving that crazy train, but those last few weeks they were really going at it. I happened to be coming around the corner one day when I heard them bickering about it. Something to do with Gloria’s ex and the time she lived in Colorado. Gloria was trying to shake Elodie down for money. From the feel of the conversation—or argument if you want to get technical—I think maybe Elodie owed Gloria some serious cash.”

  “So Elodie knows something about Gloria’s past and Elodie owed her money,” I muse to myself as I try to keep track.

  “That’s right.” He shakes his head. “But I don’t think she killed Gloria.”

  “Did you and Gloria get along?”

  Kringle groans and slaps his palm over his forehead. “You were doing good, kid. But you hit a little too close to home with that one. You knew I was kidding when I said ask him if he was the killer, right? Right?” His little tail lashes side to side and I offer a guilty shrug his way.

  Chris belts out a hearty laugh. “I’ll be honest, the woman wasn’t the easiest to work with. But I didn’t pull the trigger. I don’t even have access to a weapon like that. You’d think with the tough gun restriction laws these days, the sheriff’s department would have no problem in tracking down the killer.”

  Kringle makes an odd choking sound as he shakes his fists to the sky. “Why didn’t we think of that?”

  “I’m sure the sheriff’s department is on it.” And covering for the killer, too.

  I shoot Noah a quick glance, and a thought comes to me.

  “What about her boyfriend?” I ask. “He played Santa that night, right? I’m no relationship expert, but boy, she looked pretty angry with him.”

  He chuckles again. “Gloria was always angry with Ebenezer. I think that’s why he was stepping out on her. Poor guy was so afraid of her wrath, he was terrified to leave her. I asked him about it once, and he said something about not wanting to end up like the last guy.”

  “The ex in Colorado?” Huh. Maybe it’s the ex in Colorado I should be speaking with. “Any idea what his name was?”

  He shakes his head. “I prodded Ebenezer about it and he took off in an angry rant. He warned me to stay away from unbalanced women. And that was the end of that.” He blows out a breath. “Candy Brighton took over as acting chair of the Christmas Angels, and she’s doing a great job. There’s another event coming up at the Evergreen Manor in a couple of days. You should come.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it. So no other drama with Gloria that you can remember?”

  He snaps his fingers mid-air. “There was one more thing.” He cringes.

  “Here it comes!” Kringle does a little backflip in the air, leaving a trail of red and green stars in his wake. “This is going to be a doozy.”

  Chris scratches the back of his neck. “There’s a woman by the name of Suze.”

  Both Kringle and I straighten at the mention of the—well, let’s call a spade a spade—battle-axe.

  Kringle shakes his head. “I hate to break it to your boyfriend, Lottie, but his mother is a cold-hearted killer
. On a bright note, I know exactly what he can get her for Christmas—a pair of shiny silver bracelets.”

  I nod. And an orange jumpsuit to go along with them.

  “What about her?” I lean in with a twinge of fear in my voice.

  “Just before the unveiling of that painting, Suze and Gloria went at it. I heard Gloria say, ‘I know what you’ve done and you’ll rue the day you chose to challenge me. You’ve crossed a serious line.’” His brows hike. “And then Suze said, ‘I don’t care to be spoken to that way. I believe you just crossed a serious line.’ And then she said something very cryptic. ‘And we both know what happened to the last person that crossed a line with me. I did away with him, and I’ll do away with you.’”

  My eyes close as I relive that entire conversation. I know it well. I heard it myself.

  “Thank you for that,” I tell him. “That certainly paints a picture.”

  His cheek flinches. “A picture of guilt.”

  He pats Hook on the back before saying goodnight to both him and Meg. I wait until he’s out of earshot to step in.

  “I hope I didn’t scare him off,” I say.

  “Nope.” Hook shakes his head. “No need to worry.” Hook leans in. “I typically don’t betray my friends trust like this, but just to save you from digging, Chris let me know that someone in that volunteer organization he’s a part of has accused him of stealing. He denied it, of course. Chris is a good guy. And I believe him.”

  I nod because deep down I think I believe him, too—or at least I want to.

  Kringle screams with glee as he hugs the handle of the axe Meg just tossed toward the wall.

  “Thanks for sharing that with me.” I head over to where Noah and Carlotta are tossing hatchets of their own.

  “How’d it go?” Noah’s serious eyes penetrate mine, and I quickly relay to him everything I’ve learned.

  “Hear that, Foxy?” Carlotta pats him on the back. “This is one killer you’re going to have to let run wild. You’ve got a mama to protect. Don’t worry. Lot and I will never tell. But we’ll do our darndest to run her out of Honey Hollow.”

  “I’m not running her out of town,” I say as I pick up an axe. “I’m too afraid to mess with her,” I confess as I hurl the axe with all my might and put a nice dent into the wall about two feet away from the bullseye.

  “She’s got bad vision.” Carlotta is quick to come to my defense. “This could work for you, Detective. Slip me fifty bucks and I could distract the judge for a couple of hours while you slip into her bedroom.”

  I choose to ignore Carlotta’s banter and fire off axe after axe until I finally land one right over that red circle.

  “Bullseye!” I shout just as Noah, Carlotta, Meg, Hook, and I move into the next room and nosh on chicken wings and fried cheese at a table about as far away as we can get from Evie—per her rather threatening instructions.

  Soon, Meg and Hook head over to the dance floor and bust a move to “All I Want for Christmas Is You.”

  Noah takes my hand and his dimples dig in deep. “Come on, Lot. Let’s show ’em what we got.” He hitches his head toward the dance floor.

  “Sounds good,” I say, holding my belly as he helps me out of my chair.

  No sooner do I turn around than I spot a handsome devil with bright blue eyes as a sea of sighing women part for him.

  “It’s Everett.” My chest bucks with relief as he speeds over and pulls me into a warm embrace. Two things happen at once. The scent of sugary perfume hits me hard as it clings to his suit and I note a peach smudge of what looks to be foundation against the white collar of his dress shirt. I pull back and look into his searing eyes. “Everett, were you at work this whole time?”

  Here it is—the moment of truth. And I have a feeling I’m not going to like his truth very much.

  His chest broadens, his jaw redefines itself, and I can tell he’s wondering which way to go with this.

  “It’s a black and white question,” I say just below a whisper. With the music blaring so loud overhead, I’m not even sure he heard me the first time.

  A pained look fills his blessed by God features.

  “I had a meeting, Lemon,” he says it soft yet firm. And just like that, I can feel the ground give way underneath my feet. My body grows stiff with shock and my heart feels as if it’s stopped altogether.

  “Noah asked me to dance,” I say numbly.

  The next thing I know, I’m moving my limbs as Noah and I do our best to strut our stuff on the dance floor, but my eyes never leave Everett’s as he stares at the two of us from afar. He doesn’t look pleased. He looks mildly injured but mostly angry.

  And he can bet his gavel I feel exactly the same, yet ten times more magnified.

  Suze might be a killer, and my husband might be a cheater. If someone would have told me that’s what December would bring, I never would have believed them.

  Well, maybe that part about Suze.

  But Everett? I thought we were golden.

  How could I be so wrong?

  Chapter 13

  Country Cottage Road is covered with virgin snow by the time we get back to Honey Hollow.

  Evie ejects herself from her best friend’s car just as Noah parks in front of my new rental. He comes around to help me out, and at that moment Everett happens to pull into the driveway as well.

  Carlotta’s green van screeches down the street and she comes just shy of rear-ending Noah’s truck.

  “Did I miss it?” she barks. “Did I miss the fireworks?”

  “Nope.” Evie motions for her to come to the porch. “I’d go inside and grab the popcorn, but I don’t want to miss a word. And don’t worry, Mom. I postponed the sleepover so you and Dad could have a blowout in private.”

  Suffice it to say, Carlotta caught wind of the fact I was icing out Everett and quickly spread the news to my daughter. A wonderful move on her part.

  Everett steps up, his lips are pursed, his eyes searching both of mine.

  “Why do I get the feeling I’m not welcome here?” His voice is low and threadbare.

  Try as I might to correct him, I can’t seem to find the words to do it.

  “Hear that?” Carlotta trots over to Noah and smacks him on the arm. “I feel a swap coming on, Foxy. This might be your best Christmas yet. Offer to rub her feet. I’ve got enough hot oil and kinky candles to keep you busy until morning. That should get you in the bedroom door.”

  “Lottie—” Noah starts as I lift my chin.

  “No,” I say it sharp without taking my eyes off of Everett’s.

  “I was going to say”—Noah takes a step our way—“maybe the two of you should talk.”

  Noah asked on the ride home what the deal was with Everett and me tonight, and when I told him I wasn’t sure, he said he wouldn’t push it.

  Everett studies me a moment, his body unflinching.

  “Maybe tomorrow,” I say, blowing a plume of icy air toward the house. “I’m cold and I’m tired.”

  Everett’s chest expands before letting out a sigh. “I’ll be across the street—if it’s all right with you, Noah.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Noah is quick to respond, albeit looking more than perplexed by what’s playing out before him. He helps me up the stairs and does his best to hook his gaze to mine. “I don’t know what the heck is going on, but I need you to know I’m here for you. Call me anytime.”

  He takes off, and I seal the door shut behind him. Evie plugs in the Christmas tree lights, and it quickly envelops the room with a peachy glow. I flick on the lights, and just like that, the entire house takes on a cold, sterile appeal without Everett in it. Six red stockings hang from the mantel—one for Evie, Carlotta, Noah, Everett, the baby, and me. And just the sight of it makes me want to bawl. I thought Everett and I were going to have it all. I guess a handsome leopard can’t change his spots after all.

  Carlotta gets straight to lighting a few candles on the sofa table, and Evie scoops up both Pancake and Waffles as she
heads my way.

  “Cool, so, like, are you guys going to get a divorce? Because I totally need to know before next semester gets going. Jana Nicholson’s parents are getting a divorce and, like, three different teachers said she didn’t have to do homework.”

  “Great. I’m glad it will work out for you if we do.” I give Waffles a kiss and he mewls right back. “Evie, would you mind feeding them? I think I’m going to head straight to bed.”

  Carlotta fires up a few more candles, and I’m right there blowing them out behind her.

  “What are you doing, Lot?” She bats me away.

  “What are you doing? It’s bedtime. And I’ll never fall asleep knowing there’s a chance the house will burn down while I’m out cold. I’ve got Evie and a baby to look after.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting someone?”

  I press my hand to my chest. “Pancake and Waffles. I’m sorry, boys,” I shout to them in the kitchen. “Mommy loves you!”

  “But you don’t love your mama?” Carlotta snarls as she stalks over and shuts off the lights.

  “What they heck are you doing?” I try to navigate my way in that direction to turn them back on, but she intercepts me.

  “If we want Elm to show up, we gotta kick up the sexy a notch. A man like that needs to be wooed.”

  “What are you talk—”

  “Elm is coming over?” Evie shrieks as she heads this way. “So freaking cool! I gotta get my phone.” She runs down the hall.

  “And turn out the lights,” Carlotta calls after her.

  “Elm?” I whisper as I look up at that creepy painting glowing in the candlelight and catch the initials painted over the bottom right. “E.L.M. Elm.” I shake my head. “Do you really think he’ll show up tonight?”

  “After that smoke show he and I put on last night?” Carlotta shakes her wrist. “Woo-wee. Let’s just say not even the Grim Reaper could hold him down tonight.”

  A spray of miniature red and green stars breaks out over by the Christmas tree, and Kringle appears, causing both Pancake and Waffles to growl and swat.