Yule Log Eulogy

by Addison Moore

  Connie squints over at me. “You’re not telling anyone anything. That boyfriend of yours has an awfully handsome face. It would be a shame if he met up with a disfiguring accident. Don’t you think?”

  Cat nods. “My baby brother would happen to agree.” She narrows those dark eyes over mine. “And if you’re smart—so will you.”

  Chapter 6

  Oh joy.

  Connie Canelli is back. And to make matters worse, she’s holing up at Nell’s old house of all places. It would figure Carlotta would be a homing beacon for all kinds of Canelli catastrophes.

  And one of her best friends growing up was a Canelli? Why does this not surprise me. Of course, Carlotta ran with the wrong crowd. Poor Nell obviously had her hands full with my dear old bio mama.

  Another day has passed, and as soon as I closed down the bakery for the night, Everett invited Noah and me over to Chops, a steakhouse that overlooks Honey Lake. And since Noah was already giving me a lift home from work, we drove straight in that direction instead.

  Chops Steakhouse is a large wooden structure that sits right at the edge of the lake. And even in the winter, with the snow piled right up against the water’s edge, it’s a stunning site. The outside of the establishment is dripping with twinkle lights, and there’s a giant evergreen wreath dotting the front door.

  And speaking of snow, it’s doing just that. It’s been sprinkling down, soft as powdered sugar all day, giving all of Honey Hollow a magical appeal. I’ve got on my heavy-duty snow boots and flannel-lined jeans. I’ve got on a turtleneck and a bright red cheery sweater, which are far better suited for the bakery than they are a night on the town, but it’s all buried under my down jacket anyways. There’s not a soul that will judge you for how you choose to dress when the weather is like this.

  We hand the keys to the valet, and Noah opens the door to the restaurant for me, seeing that his chivalry is in overdrive now that he thinks I’m incubating our precious little angel.

  Noah looks gorgeous tonight in a dark wool coat, his hair slicked back, and those dimples of his adorably winking at me. Just the scent of his cologne makes me heady, and I can’t wait until we’re alone so I can shower him with all my pent-up affection. And part of that stems from guilt.

  Poor Noah. I feel like a beast deceiving him like that. One day he’s going to discover the truth, and he’ll see firsthand what a devil his ex-wife really was.

  The truth has been percolating in me like mad the last few days, but knowing it could cause a severe setback has been the only reason I’ve been able to bite my tongue.

  I’m about to start in on a verbose dialogue of my day at the bakery—a surefire way of getting my mind off of the truth and onto everyday life—when we bump into a familiar looking couple on their way out.

  “Lainey? Forest?” My spirit brightens at the sight of them as I pull them both into a quick embrace.

  “Hey!” Lainey pulls Noah into a brief embrace, too. “You two look familiar. What are you up to?”

  Forest bucks with a laugh. “I know what they’re up to. A romantic dinner for two.”

  “For three,” Noah corrects as he lands his arm lovingly around my waist.

  “Ah!” Lainey looks a bit frightened for poor Noah. As if lying to him wasn’t bad enough, I’ve got other people lying to him, too. “Well, that’s what we were doing.” She gives her stomach a quick pat.

  “How are you feeling?” I ask. “You look amazing. I swear, you’re glowing.”

  “Thank you.” She grimaces over at Noah a moment. “And so are you, Lottie. Oh, wow, look at that glow. Don’t you think, Forest?”

  Dear Lord.

  Forest is quick to agree with a frenetic nod that looks as if it’s about to snap his neck right off his body.

  Noah tips his head toward my sister. “Lottie hasn’t seen a doctor yet.”

  My mouth falls open. “I’ve just been so busy at the bakery.”

  “Not to worry,” Noah assures me. “December is your busiest month. And that’s exactly why I’ve decided to take the reins. Lainey, who’s your doctor? I’ll call tomorrow and see if they can squeeze her in.”

  Gah!

  I shake my head ever so slightly at my sister, but she’s too busy fishing something out of her purse.

  “It’s Dr. Barnette. Here’s her business card.” She holds it out to Noah and looks my way just in time to see me giving her a hard look. “Oh!” She tries to take it back, but Noah has already gripped the edge of it. “I can’t give this to you. I’m sorry.” She tries taking it back, but Noah isn’t letting go, and soon enough they’re having a minute tug-of-war over it.

  “I’ll just take a quick look at it,” Noah suggests.

  “No, I need the card. I need to double check the address every time I head out, and it’s the only card I have.” She quickly tucks the card back into her purse.

  Noah blinks back. “But don’t you know where her office is if you’ve already been there?”

  “Oh no.” She pulls Forest to the door. “I get confused very easily. It’s something called a pregnant brain, and I’ve got it. We’ll see you both later.” She waves, dragging Forest out the door with her.

  “Enjoy your dinner,” he calls out as they disappear quickly in the snow.

  I sigh hard at my far too handsome almost-husband. Noah looks like a deity that climbed down from Mount Olympus tonight, and here I am fibbing right to his blessed by God face.

  “I must say, you look absolutely handsome tonight.” It comes out guilty as if somehow every word that leaves my lips might be a half-truth.

  His dimples sink in. “And you are stunning in every capacity. How about we eat and run? I’m determined to frost my wife’s cookies tonight. That is, if she’s ready and willing.”

  “Oh, I am.” Last night I was so traumatized about seeing the Canelli catastrophe, I added another lie to my list and told Noah I wasn’t feeling well. Honestly, that might have been the truth. Noah brought Toby to my place, and we all piled on the bed with Pancake and Waffles.

  I was terrified Noah had seen the truth written on my face. I was so tense I was half-afraid he would arrest me on the spot for helping to harbor a fugitive. But I can’t risk anything happening to Everett. I’ll do anything to make sure he stays far from any Canelli-based carnage. Their threats are very real.

  Speaking of the handsome, alive, and with every part of his gorgeous face right where it needs to be judge, Everett texts and asks us to meet him at the bar.

  No sooner do we arrive in the holiday festooned dimly lit room than I spot an entire gaggle of familiar well-to-do faces and gasp.

  “They’re all here,” I hiss over to Noah. Every last suspect from that murderous Christmas party is front and center.

  Jazz music plays softly through the speakers, allowing for the din of conversation to rule the roost.

  Noah shakes his head at the sight. “They sure are, aren’t they? Come on.” He presses his hand into the small of my back. “Let’s see what this is all about.”

  Aside from the garland, the big candy apple red bows, and the tall well-lit evergreen, there are a bevy of diamond-clad women in cocktail dresses and well-shaven men in expensive Italian suits. Sickly sweet perfume and spiced cologne clash in a battle of the pricey scents as Noah and I quickly become enveloped in the toxic cloud.

  A tall, dapper looking man stands like a steed among mules, his lips curving dangerously at the tips and his cobalt gaze never breaking from mine.

  “Everett,” I say, speeding over and wrapping my arms around him briefly. He feels solid and safe and smells like sheer testosterone and heaven.

  Just about every woman in this place is craning her neck in this direction, conducting a quick appraisal of both Everett and Noah before taking a moment to scowl at me. I’ll admit, it doesn’t seem fair. Having two unearthly handsome men all to myself isn’t exactly something I was striving for, nor did I ever think it were possible.

  Noah leans in. “What’s going
on? Did you round up all the suspects and offer to ply them with alcohol?”

  Everett glances back just as a platinum blonde lets out a riotous cackle.

  “The opposite, actually. Cressida decided to throw an impromptu celebration of life for Larson.”

  My mouth opens to say something just as a couple of bleached blondes bounce into our midst.

  “Big Boss!” Cormack does her best to hop onto Noah’s back and I gasp. She’s got on an emerald velvet gown—the exact color of Noah’s eyes—off the shoulder, floor-length.

  “Are you crazy? He’s still healing, you nitwit!” I bat her away with my purse. And right about now, I wish I had Ethel stuffed in it. Ethel is the small Glock handgun that Noah and Everett teamed up to buy me. Had I hauled her here with me I might have gotten lucky and had a misfire—one with good aim, that is. Not that I have a death wish for Cormack, but I never said I was above a little maiming—especially considering the fact she’s the reason Noah is in such a delicate state to begin with.

  Cressida raises a bare leg over Everett’s waist and swivels around him as if he were a pole. She’s donned a bright red gown the color of the perfect Christmas bow, and I can’t help but note it looks garishly cheery for the occasion. It has a strapless bodice top that laces up in the back, floor-length with a couple of thigh high slits running up both legs.

  I’m guessing they left their parkas at the door. There’s no way they were traipsing around almost naked in the snow. Not if they were smart, anyway. And just like that, I debunk my theory of them leaving their parkas at the door.

  “So glad the two of you could make it to drinkies.” She tickles the stubble on Everett’s cheeks as she says it. “Make sure to get the signature cocktails of the night, the Unlucky Larson Iced Tea, the To-Kill-Ya Gin and Garland, or the Red Rum Rosenberg. Red rum is murder spelled backward.”

  I gasp at the crassness of it all.

  Cormack is quick to wave me off. “Don’t pay any mind to Loretta. She probably wants a lager.” She sticks her finger down her throat and pretends to gag. “Which one would you like, Boss?” She smacks Noah’s cheek with an unstoppable kiss, and I can’t help but frown at her.

  “None of the above. I’m driving precious cargo.”

  Everett straightens. “Just a beer for me.”

  “I could really go for a strawberry daiquiri.” I glance to Noah, only to meet up with his bulging eyes. “Virgin, of course.”

  “Coming right up.” Noah is quick to zip to the bar with Cormack in tow. She’s starting to remind me an awful lot of one of those fish they keep in big tanks that constantly sucks off other fish. She’s proving difficult to shake, and by the looks of it, she’s irritating the heck out of Noah. Her entire personality is a toxin at this point.

  “So Cressie”—I take a step forward toward the barnacle trying her best to adhere herself to Everett’s side—“how long did you know poor Larson?”

  Cressida flinches as if I struck her. “Larcy and I went way back. We were kids together.”

  I make a face without meaning to. Of course, they were kids together. They were about the same age, but it sounded off. And, truth be told, everything about Cressida seems off to me. Underneath her glossy magazine perfect exterior I bet there’s a storm cloud with nothing but darkness and danger looming. If I’ve learned anything these last few months of sleuthing, it’s that you can’t judge a book by its designer cover.

  Everett takes a deep breath and gives a wistful shake of the head. “Who do you think did this?”

  “Did she have any enemies?” I ask a little too eager. And I desperately want to follow it up with were you one of them, but don’t.

  “Enemies?” she over enunciates the word as if she were trying it out for the very first time. “Larcy didn’t have enemies. Everyone liked her.” She wrinkles her nose as if the thought annoyed her.

  “Did the two of you get along?” I fire off another one without missing a beat. “Did she have a disagreement with anyone about anything?”

  Everett wraps an arm around her shoulder and gives her arm a playful squeeze.

  Cressida perks up and giggles as she leans against him. “Oh, Essex, you of all people know how much Larcy meant to me.” She squints toward the posh looking crowd. “Charlie and Larson had a bit of a tiff.”

  I follow her gaze to a redhead with a big toothy grin, a glass of something fruity in her hand, and a copper-colored gown that looks as if it’s comprised of small metallic squares.

  “What about?” Everett does his best to sound casual while interrogating her, and it’s perfectly adorable. Oh, all right, it’s downright sexy.

  Cressida shrugs. “Something about a business venture they went in on together. Oh, who cares. Larcy is gone and Charlie Sinclair is a washed-up has-been. It’s time to move on and start thinking about tomorrow.”

  “Not yet, missy.” Cormack pops back and wags a finger at her. “First, we get toasty, toasty!” She brays out a laugh just as Noah hands me my own fruity concoction.

  “Cressida?” I try my best to lock eyes with her, but she’s too busy trying to lock eyes with Everett. “Do you know if there was anything that might have upset Larson the night of the party? I think she mentioned she was over it at one point.”

  She waves me off, her other hand still expertly pawing over Everett’s tie. “Larcy was over everything once she felt she didn’t get enough attention.”

  Cormack twists her berry-stained lips. “Someone gave her attention.” She nods to Noah. “A killer. Isn’t that right, Big Boss? Not only did they give her attention, they gave her a tacky holiday scarf.”

  My mouth falls open. A part of me wonders if Cormack realizes how Larson died, but I’m not about to probe the issue. I’m pretty sure there are lots of things that Cormack doesn’t fully grasp—like the fact I’m married to Noah, supposedly.

  She wraps an arm around his waist, and I quickly remove it.

  “Noah?” I pick up his hand and start to lead him away. “Why don’t we mingle with some of the guests?”

  I give Everett a quick wink before diving into the tangle of limbs all around us.

  “There’s Charlie Sinclair,” I whisper to Noah as I point over to the redhead in the copper gown. “Cressida mentioned that Larson was in some kind of a business venture with the girl. What kind of business do you think a wealthy socialite dips her toe into?”

  “Swift Cycle.”

  I can’t help but shoot a wry smile at my handsome plus one.

  Noah’s dimples wink in and out, and my stomach squeezes tight at the sight. Noah’s ex—his first ex-wife—I cannot believe I’ve been added to that roster—Britney, owns and operates a smattering of Swift Cycle gyms in Vermont. And she just so happens to run one across the street from my bakery, too.

  “I’m not kidding.” His warm arm glides across my back as he pulls me close. “I went over yesterday morning to talk about Toby, and I saw that woman speaking to Brit. She mentioned something about becoming a franchisee.”

  Britney and Noah share custody of their sweet Golden, Toby. And I happen to love Toby as much as I do my sweet cats, Pancake and Waffles.

  “Wow, that’s interesting. Do you think Larson wanted in on it, too?”

  “Maybe.” His lips twitch as he glances out the blackened window.

  “Noah, are you hiding something from me?”

  He averts his gaze in the other direction.

  “You are! I can read you like a book. Spill it.”

  He sighs as I press my chest to his, and we engage in an impromptu slow dance right here in the thick of the bar.

  “Okay, but don’t breathe a word.”

  “Noah, this is me you’re talking to. Believe me, I’m better at keeping secrets than you think.” And I hate myself for it, too.

  His emerald eyes press into mine. “Ivy made it clear she didn’t want me working on Larson’s case. And, I’m technically not. But”—he cocks his head to the side—“I’ve been looking into her mother’s
murder. It’s been a cold case for years.” He shrugs. “I can’t help it. I like difficult puzzles.”

  “Noah”—my mouth falls open with a mixture of surprise and titillation—“would it be crass of me to admit that I found that strangely arousing?”

  His lids hood low, and his hands warm my back with wicked intent. “I’d be disappointed if it didn’t.”

  I tick my head to the side. “You do realize that Ivy threatened to have me arrested last month if I poked my nose into her case.” I shake my head. “I didn’t let it stop me.”

  A dull rumble of a laugh strums from him. “Would it be crass of me to admit that I found that strangely arousing?”

  I bite down over my lip and shake my head. “So? It begs the question. Are you going to let it stop you?”

  “Not on your life. But I think you already knew that.”

  A giggle works its way up my throat. “What do you say? I help you with your case and you help me with mine?” My brows bounce suggestively.

  A crooked grin rides over his lips. “Sounds as if this is going to be a December to remember after all.”

  “It will.” I hike up on the balls of my feet and whisper into his ear, “But it will be for entirely different reasons.”

  Noah gives a guttural growl of approval.

  “I still have that naughty Mrs. Claus nightie that Keelie gifted me last year.”

  “Good. But you won’t be wearing it for long.”

  The sound of a knife tapping over a glass garners the attention of everyone in the room.

  We look over to find Cressida and Cormack waving the masses to attention along with Charlie, the girl with the copper dress, Buffy, the girl with more of a cartoonish hue to her crimson locks, and Tilly, the bronzed beauty who edits dirty books.

  I lean to Noah. “The redhead standing next to Charlie is Buffy. Everett said she was betrayed by her fiancé last summer.”

  Everett pops up next to us. “That she was. Scorned by Kippy.” He sighs as if the thought of it disappointed him.