Cormack jumps into our midst, laughing up a storm as if she hit the brewery on the corner good and hard.
“Boo!” She smacks Noah with a kiss right on the lips.
Cormack is the aforementioned Coconut Featherhead. She happens to be delusional enough to believe that she and Noah are engaged. Last month, she went as far as throwing a surprise engagement party for her and Noah—and oddly enough, she threw one for Everett and me as well.
Cormack is an impossibly thin blonde with celadon green eyes and bony features. She comes from old money and has a penchant for flashy clothes, cars, and purses.
Before Noah can respond to the assault, my sisters, Meg and Lainey, pop up.
Meg has long since dyed her blonde locks raven’s wing black, and it looks stunning juxtaposed against her ice blue eyes. Lainey shares my caramel-colored hair and hazel eyes—so much so that when we were little, I had hoped my parents had the details of my adoption wrong.
Meg slaps Cormack on the back. “How’d you take the news, Mac Nut?” She turns my way. “I can’t believe Noah wifed with you a bouquet of dried flowers.”
It’s true. I held a bouquet of dried flowers for the ceremony and I felt like the luckiest bride in the world. Even though we tied what we thought was the faux knot in Pastor Gaines’ office with zero pomp and circumstance, that rugged little ceremony will forever hold a special place in my heart.
I shake my head at my sister, silently begging her not to speak another word. I know for a fact that Noah has a very distinct and intricate plan on how to make things clear to Cormack once and for all regarding where they stand. He’s tried alerting her to the fact that they are not a couple in the past, and somehow it always seems to bring them closer to the altar rather than farther from it.
Everett leans in. “Let Meg take over, Lemon. This might be the most entertaining part of the day.”
“Or the scariest.”
Noah lifts a finger as if ready to interject, but Meg hops right in front of Cormack.
“I’m talking about the wedding that took place,” my sister snarks.
Cormack is quick to bat Meg away like a giant gnat just as a rush of tourists comes and attacks my cupcake stand.
“What are you talking about? What wedding?” Cormack takes up Noah’s hand and looks as if she’s about to bolt off with him in an effort to escape my intimidating sister.
Truthfully, who could blame her? Meg has always had an intimidating air about her. In fact, she spent a good portion of the last few years on the female wrestling circuit in Las Vegas.
Mom ambles up. Her hair looks wild and her face is pinched red. She has a look of fire in her eyes and she’s clearly worked up over something.
“You don’t get to talk to me that way,” she growls at the poor soul behind her. “You have no idea how outraged I am right now. I’m fit to be tied. I’m fit to kill!” She stomps on up. “Lottie, what can I do to help?”
I glance past her and spot a pasty-faced Pastor Gaines trailing her. He’s got on a rather loud purple and green striped sweater, and I can’t help but think it looks as if he’s dressed appropriately for the haunted lunacy that’s about to ensue.
Oh my goodness, she was telling off her boy toy.
Pastor Gaines and my mother have dated for the last few months, but I don’t trust Pastor Gaines as far as I can throw him. In fact, just last month, Noah and I discovered that his real name is Stephen Heartwood. What kind of pastor has the need to change his identity?
Everett thought maybe he had a good reason for it. But I think there’s something sinister afoot. So I gave my mother the heads-up and made her promise not to say a word while Noah and I investigated it further, but it looks as if it’s all coming to a head for her.
“Go inside,” I tell her. “Lily will gladly give you something to do.”
She nods before glancing his way. “And don’t follow me. I’m at a breaking point today.” She ducks into the bakery, and he glares my way a moment.
Stephen Gaines—Heartwood, whoever he is, always has a smile plastered to his obnoxious face, and this moment is no different. It’s tight and manufactured, but nonetheless it never leaves his face.
“Lottie.” His dark eyes linger over mine as he heads in after her.
Some men simply don’t know the value of following orders.
Everett leans in again. “You want me to go after him?”
“Not yet,” I say as Cormack struggles to leave our intimate circle with Noah stapled to her hand, but now it’s Lainey jumping in front of her.
“Let go of that man!” Lainey does a karate chop move that renders Cormack Noah-less. I’d laugh because it’s a touch comical, but I’m terrified this will turn ugly fast.
Personally, I don’t want to be around once Cormack is given the news. Her delusional relationship with Noah has been spurring her along for the last few months. There’s no telling what might unravel once the truth comes out.
Meg wraps an arm around Lainey’s shoulders.
“That’s right.” Meg flashes a short-lived smile. “Noah Fox is a married man, and he’s not married to you, missy, so take a haunted hike. Or better yet, step out in front of the next haunted chariot. Trust me, no one is going to stop you. Least of all this poor man you’ve been terrorizing.”
“Meg!” I try to pull her back, but she’s proving immovable.
“Enough is enough, Lot,” Meg riots. “You have to be tough with some people or they won’t accept the truth.” She turns back to Cormack. “Noah married Lottie a few days ago. They’ve already hopped on the baby train, too. So get out of their way or I’ll forcibly remove you.”
“Oh God,” I groan as Everett holds me back.
Cormack’s lips contort into all sorts of scary shapes as she turns to Noah.
“What is she rambling about?” She swats both Lainey and Meg with her pricey purse until they offer her decent clearance in which to leave our circle.
“It’s true.” Noah looks my way. “Lottie and I were married just a few days ago.”
“What?” Cormack squawks as she trots in front of him. “What do you mean you married Luella?”
Dear Lord. I groan at the malfeasance she keeps perpetuating when it comes to my rightful moniker. For reasons unbeknownst to me, both Cormack and Noah’s ex-wife, Britney, cannot get my name right to save their lives.
Speaking of which, the blonde bombshell herself struts up in a body-hugging cat suit, her hourglass figure on full display—and she’s earned it. Britney is a franchisee of the Swift Cycle gyms. She’s planted one across the street and has an entire slew of them all around the great state of Vermont. She’s a real-life blonde version of Jessica Rabbit, a sultry vixen that doles out the sass and doesn’t take flack from anyone.
“What did I miss?” she pants to Everett as a loose strand of hair covers her left eye. I’m not entirely sure Britney has two eyes. In fact, I don’t think she does. I’ve yet to see that sultry hairstyle dislodge itself to prove me wrong.
My half-brother, Finn, is standing by her side and offers me a friendly wave. He’s Mayor Nash’s son and my newfound brother. He shares my caramel-colored hair and hazel eyes and looks like the adorable boy next door. He runs the Sugar Bowl Resort up north, but he’s been spending a lot of time in Honey Hollow with his new sweetie, Britney.
“You didn’t miss a thing,” I say to Britney just as something soft and furry brushes against my right arm, and I look over to find that a black cat has jumped onto my cupcake table. It’s about a foot tall, seated, and its glowing green eyes are pointed straight at Cormack as if it were settling in to watch the show.
I’m about to shoo it away when Cormack groans as if she were just hit with a bullet.
“Noah Corbin Fox!” Her voice booms over the expanse, and I’d swear there was a silent lull for a solid two seconds on Main Street in her honor. “What is this about?” A breath hitches in her throat as she freezes solid a moment. “Oh, I get it.” Her head tips back as she le
ts out a frightening laugh.
Everett leans in. “That’s the cackle of a madwoman.”
“You’re not wrong,” I whisper back.
Cormack brays like a dolphin. “Noah, say you’re teasing. With all these people around you’re bound to start rumors. Think of poor Essex. He and Lolly are practically married themselves.”
“I wish,” Everett whispers the word hot into my ear, and a shiver rides through me.
Noah rubs his eyes a moment as if trying to wake from a very bad dream. “It’s not a joke, Cormack. In fact”— he takes a few bold steps in my direction, and suddenly I’m fearing for both our necks—“Lottie, I spoke with my counselor and she suggests you join me for the session.”
Cormack balks, “You want her to join us? Noah, we’re not bringing her to our couple’s counseling. Lolita, you can just march yourself right back into your little bakery and take your fiancé along with you. You don’t have to attend a single counseling session with my beloved and me.”
Meg steps in. “Nutcase!” she riots in Cormack’s face. “The dude is off the market.”
Cormack remains unfazed as she lifts her ring finger and shows off the glittering rock, albeit a replica of the real deal.
“Darn tootin’, missy.” Cormack flaunts her faux engagement ring enthusiastically as if she were sharing a far more colorful finger with us. “The man is off the market, and he’s mine!”
Lainey tosses her hands in the air. “All right, let me at her. Listen here and listen good, Featherby. Noah purchased that ring on your finger for my sister. He didn’t give it to you. You pried it out of his closet!”
It’s true. Cormack found the ring that was intended for me and quickly popped it on without giving Noah a chance to explain.
The growing crowd around us gasps. A robust band of tourists has amassed along with the fine yet eager-to-know-the-truth people of Honey Hollow.
Oh dear. This is turning into a certifiable nightmare.
“Noah?” His name comes from Cormack, low and throaty and dare I say a tad bit threatening. “Is this true?”
“It’s true.” His dimples invert, no smile, and the collective crowd seems to stop breathing.
It is true. In fact, the ring on her finger is a replica that Cormack herself had made of the original—and thankfully so. Her farce was heartbreaking enough to witness without the thought of her wearing the treasure Noah bought with me in mind.
A high-pitched scream knifes its way out of Cormack’s throat, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think it served as some sort of tribal communication system between her and her old sorority sisters.
Cormack reaches back and snaps a cupcake off the table and jams the frosting in Noah’s face. And before I know it, she’s picked up another one and another as she pelts him a mile a minute.
The black cat lets out a deafening roar as it jumps on all fours, its hair standing on end giving it an electrocuted appeal.
I’m about to reach for the poor thing and pull it to safety when it turns around and jumps through the glass and into my shop, sending my heart right up my throat.
That wasn’t just any black cat. That was a supernatural specter who comes bearing bad news for its previous owner. And by bad news, I mean death.
Meg holds her hands to her mouth like a megaphone. “FOOD FIGHT!”
And soon enough, it’s raining cupcakes in every direction.
Everett catches one midflight and gently dots my lips with it before kissing off the frosting.
Meg laughs as she spots us. “Looks like fun.”
I hook my gaze to Everett as the melee ensues. “And in a bit, it’s going to look like murder.”
His eyes widen as if to ask the question and I nod.
“It’s happening again,” I say. “Death has come to Honey Hollow.”
Everett exhales deeply. “And someone will die today.”
Chapter 2
Chaos.
Complete and utter chaos.
Everett pulls me out of the madness as we ditch into the bakery and watch Noah try his best to subdue a cupcake wielding Cormack.
Lily runs up. “Oh, Lottie!” Lily Swanson is a brunette stunner who has worked for me since the bakery opened a year ago. She happens to be best friends with Naomi Turner, my best friend’s—Keelie Turner’s—twin. But Lily and Naomi have since had a falling-out over Noah’s younger brother, Alex. He’s a muscular ex-Marine turned investment banker who strolled into town a few months back and stole a few hearts and destroyed a few friendships along the way. Lily and Naomi were his first casualties. “Lottie”—Lily drops her face in her hands a moment—“we worked all morning to get those cupcakes out there for the public to enjoy.”
“Don’t I know it. I just wish I could fix this mess.”
She makes a face. “Speaking of which, you need to remember to fix the ground safe. The lid won’t lock, and you’ve still got last night’s deposit in there.”
“I’m one step ahead of you. I already have a locksmith scheduled to come out tomorrow. I just wish I was one step ahead of this food fight.”
A cupcake hits the window with a splat, leaving a bright orange stain in its wake.
Meg and Lainey head inside, laughing hysterically as frosting drips from their hair, and my mother and Pastor Gaines run out from the back to see what the commotion is about.
My mother’s hair looks like a hurricane just blew through it. Her blouse is buttoned in all the wrong places, and her pants look as if she’s hiked them up in haste. I’m betting she has. It looks as if she went from furious with the sneaky shepherd to passionate in a single coital bound.
“Mother, where were you?” I ask, exasperated at the thought of what might have been happening between the two of them.
A guttural laugh emits from her as she wiggles her shoulders.
“Mom! A minute ago, you were threatening to kill him. And, seeing that things clearly went sideways for you in that department, I volunteer to do the deed myself!” Before I can lunge onto the demon, the entire bakery floods with the frosting covered masses.
Noah threads his way through the crowd as he makes his way over. His hair is slicked with black frosting and it’s a good, not to mention delicious, look on him.
“Cormack took off.” He pauses a moment to shoot my sisters a wry look. “She’s threatening to do all kinds of things. I think I’d better find her—maybe talk to her in private.”
Everett’s chest bucks with a silent laugh. “Something you should have done months ago.” He looks my way. “Have you noticed he has a pattern of omitting pertinent information from women?”
Meg jumps forward. “And don’t forget stringing them along in false relationships.”
Noah groans, “I’ll catch up with you tonight, Lottie. Everett, try not to stir the pot while I’m gone.”
He takes off just as the floodgates open, and soon enough both the bakery and the Honey Pot Diner are filled with patrons.
The Honey Pot Diner is connected to the bakery by way of a walk-through built into our conjoining wall. Both places once belonged to my grandmother, Nell Sawyer, who left every piece of real estate she owned to yours truly.
Nell died last January, but the will was contested by my uncle who sorely lost his legal battle last month and now, indeed, I own what feels like every bit of real estate under the sun. Everett promised he’d go over it all with me and help me get organized. I’ve never been a land baron before, and I have no idea what to do next.
The Honey Pot is where I worked for years, alongside Keelie, right up until Nell helped me open this place. In the center of the Honey Pot’s adorable dining room there’s a large resin oak tree with its center hollowed out. A honey pot sits inside, dripping its golden goodness, surrounded by resin bees. The branches of that oak stretch across the ceiling and right into my bakery. And each of those branches is covered in twinkle lights. It adds a magical appeal to both establishments, especially on a dark cloudy day like today.
M
om looks to my sisters. “I’ll try to reserve us all a table at the Honey Pot.”
“It’s no use.” Keelie comes over, her blonde curls bouncing over her shoulders. “We’ve got a two-hour wait as it stands. No offense, but this Haunted Honey Hollow thing might be working a little too good.”
“Agree,” I say as I spot my spooky kooky bio mom seemingly talking to herself in the corner. But, alas, she’s chatting up a storm with that fluffy black no-doubt-about-it supernatural cat.
“Would you please excuse us?” I pull Everett along with me.
Only Everett and Noah are apprised of my transmundane status, further classified as supersensual. At first, when I started seeing long deceased pets—and on occasion the rare dead human—it served as a rather harmless bad omen for their loved ones. And that usually translated into nothing more than a sprained ankle at best, but now it almost certainly means death. And slowly over the last solid year my supersensual powers have begun to grow. About a few months ago, the dead garnered the ability to move things within the material world—whenever they wished. And as of recently, I can hear the dead—and fortunately for me, these ghostly pets and people love to jabber.
I give Everett’s hand a squeeze. For some reason, I discovered that I act as a conduit. And if someone touches me, they can then hear what the dead have to say as well.
That gorgeous ebony fur ball sits fanning his long plume of a tail over his back as it regales Carlotta with a story. Its fur shimmers as if a spray of stars is trapped inside its fur and it looks perfectly magical.
“Lottie! Judge Sexy!” Carlotta pats the spot next to her. “Take a seat and join the party. Thirteen here was just about to tell me about the scariest Halloween Eve he’s ever seen.”
“A boy, huh?” I give him a quick scratch behind the ears and he shivers as he leans against my fingers hard. It never fails to amuse me the way the dead can feel as solid as they please just before they dissolve to nothing. “What’s this Thirteen business?”
The cat growls, “That’s my name.” His neon green eyes shine like beacons.
Killer Cupcakes (MURDER IN THE MIX Book 14) Page 2