by Unknown
Serena rolls her eyes. “You supersensuals always think you have the be-all and end-all power. I’ll have you know, being a beguiler entails far more than you know.”
“Ohh.” I startle as I spot Chad jumping off the stage for a minute. “I’d love to hear all about how great you beguilers and your little powers are, but I see someone I need to have a quick chitchat with.”
“Chad? I should have known. Here”—she lifts a finger his way—“I’ll deliver him straight to you. And then we’ll see how little my powers are.”
Sure as heck, Chad Harris draws a straight line over to us with his feet.
“Chad, honey”—Serena pulls him in by the shoulders—“my friend Lottie here was just asking who to see about putting in a request for a romantic song. She has two different suitors, so you may want to free up an entire playlist for her. If you’ll both excuse me, I’m wanted for pictures.”
She trots off, and I’m not sure which impresses me more, the fact Serena just used her beguiler abilities to practically make Chad Harris appear before me or the fact she came up with an icebreaker in two seconds flat—and a zinger, but that’s beside the point.
If Serena really is that good, I’ll have to drag her along on some of my investigative escapades.
“What song is on your mind, little mama?” He sheds an affable smile as he looks my way. His light blue dress shirt brings out his eyes, and his dark blond hair is shorn short and mimics the stubble on his face. There’s something easy about him, as if he could make friends with just about anyone—and yet this was the heckler that was harassing Verity the night of the Love Your Selfie event.
“Oh, um, ‘Islands in the Stream’? I think we could cover a lot of ground with that.” I’m not sure that song would cover any ground considering the fact there is someone very much in-between Everett and me at all times, namely Noah. But if that song were made for a woman with a heart for two men, it would be perfect.
“No can do,” he’s quick to shoot it down. “That’s a duet. But tell you what, I’ve got a country song that’s just as sappy and twice as weepy. Just wave my way and I’ll toss it into the mix when you’re ready. I’d hate to catch you off guard in the event you were in the restroom. My sister had a kid last year, and she practically lived on the toilet.”
“Same here. I won’t go anywhere anymore unless I have a map of where the bathroom is. Hey, I think I’ve seen you before. Did you sing at the Honey Hollow Christmas Auction?”
“Wasn’t me. But I was in Honey Hollow a couple of weeks ago.” His chest expands with his next breath and he’s scanning the crowd. “At that bed and breakfast they’ve got. That night…”
He’s getting cagey. I can tell he wants to make a quick escape.
“Oh, I was there that night, too,” I say just as a smattering of pink and red stars ignites the air, and Teddy the cute, yet highly misguided, furry koala pops in our midst.
“I was there as well,” Teddy says a touch sternly. “And do you know who’s not here now? Carlotta.” She turns her thick neck to the left and gasps. “Why, I see her shoving those crab legs into her purse. I’m sorry, Lottie. But I need to put my foot down. It’s pertinent that the primary is the one interrogating the suspect. I demand you pause the conversation until I come back with her.” She zips off, and I can’t help but shoot a sour look in her wake.
Chad winces my way. “You look as if you’re reliving a bad memory. I know what you’re thinking about. Verity Prescott. She’s the one that died that night, but I suppose you already know that. Everyone in the world seems to know it. I guess Verity really was as popular as she believed. I never bought into that. I knew her when she was still Vera Pumpernickel.”
“Vera Pumpernickel?” I give a few quick blinks. I bet dollars to donuts, Detective Ivy Fairbanks doesn’t know that and neither does Cormack. Not that Cormack knows anything at all.
“That’s right. She didn’t think Pumpernickel sounded polished enough, so she pulled Prescott out of the bag and went with it. Verity was her full name, though. But she’ll always be Vera to me.”
“It sounds as if you were really close to her.”
“We were.” His features darken. “Perhaps too close. Vera had a strong personality. She was a lot to take in.” His expression quickly softens. “I don’t suppose you heard the agitator in the crowd that night.”
“I sort of did.”
“That would have been me. I’m not too proud, but I’m sure Vera forgave me. She always did.”
“You said some pretty harsh things.”
“That was the liquor talking.” He tips his head to the side, and I can tell he’s hesitating with whatever wants to stream from him next. “Vera wanted to break it off with me. In fact, she did just a few nights before that. But if you tell a soul, I’ll deny it. She didn’t mean it.” He shrugs it off, and I can’t help but think he’s in denial. “We had done the whole break up and make up thing so many times it wasn’t believable anymore. Besides, it wasn’t me she was threatening to get a restraining order against.”
I nod. “It was Bambi Bailey. What was going on with that? Do you know?”
A dark laugh strums through him. “Let’s just say Bambi had the guts not to let Vera walk all over her. Vera gave Bambi a list of fifteen different people who had wronged her in the social media world. She told Bambi to nuke ’em.”
“Nuke ’em?”
“That’s right. She wanted those people sorry they had ever dared to step on her spotlight. Vera didn’t come from much. So when she finally started to hit it big, she was afraid of losing any of it before she had a chance to enjoy it. The moneymaking potential was huge. Vera was just about to grab the brass ring when she bit the big one. Still can’t believe she’s really gone.”
“It’s terrible. How do you think that happened? I mean, the rest of the raspberry tarts were tested and none of them contained any levels of botulism whatsoever.”
“That’s right, that female detective came around and said Vera was poisoned.” He averts his eyes. “Botulism, huh? Sounds like a routine mix-up with some bad food.”
“They found it on a half-eaten tart just outside the conservatory that night. They tested it for her DNA and her samples matched.” A thought comes to me. “When that detective spoke to you, I bet she really shook you down for information.”
His brows pinch as if he were trying to recall. “Nah, I don’t think so.”
“Oh, that’s strange. When my father died, we had a detective come to the house and ask my mother all sorts of personal questions. She had to turn over sensitive material, including all of his passwords.”
Not true, but hey, it works.
Chad looks mildly nauseated by the thought. “It sounds as if your dad had some dicey dealings.”
“Not really. But what could she do? I mean, what would you do if they demanded her passwords?”
“I guess I’d have to hand them over.”
Ah-ha! He knows them.
He shakes his head ever so slightly. “But I’m clueless as to what they could be.”
There goes that.
He takes in a deep breath. “I bet I could guess, though. She mentioned the name Teddy a few times when logging into her stuff. That was probably it.”
Teddy!
He shrugs. “Hey, maybe this Teddy person is the one that did her in?” He winks as if it were all a joke.
“You really don’t believe she was poisoned?”
He shrugs, suddenly looking indifferent about the whole thing. “I’m just saying even if someone gave her some rotten fruit, it doesn’t mean they were trying to poison her. Maybe they were just trying to ruin her night? Give her an upset stomach.”
Give her an upset stomach?
“I get it.” He shakes his head. “Vera had enemies. People downright hated her. And she deserved some of that blowback she got. But were any of her enemies ready to commit to murder? I don’t think so.”
“Well, I’m sorry for your loss.”
>
“I’m sorry, too. But in a sense, it gives me a bit of peace.”
“How so?”
“She never had a chance to kick me to the curb one last time. I was never any good at sharing her with anyone. This way, Vera will always be my girl. She’ll belong to me forever.” He takes a step toward the stage and backtracks. “Let me know when you’re ready for that song. I’m a big believer in true love.” He takes off, and I watch as the band kicks off and Chad Harris begins crooning into the microphone.
Noah and Everett speed over and Noah is quick to whisk me in his arms.
“One dance?” His dimples depress as he asks.
“It’s more than fine by me,” I tell him.
He nods to Everett. “Come on, Everett. You get her all the time.”
Carlotta shuffles up with a couple of crab legs sticking out of the top of her dress.
“Carlotta,” I hiss. “Your horns are showing.”
“So are yours, Lot. Teddy just informed me you were trying to usurp my case.”
Keelie clip-clops her way over with a plate brimming with the best any aquarium has to offer and a long-dead koala bear swinging from her neck. Oddly, Keelie sort of looks as if she’s cradling him in the crook of her arm.
“I can’t believe all this food,” Keelie moans over her plate. “And the strangest thing is, it almost feels as if I’ve got little Bear sitting right on my hip. Oh, and Alex and Serena invited me to sit at their table, so if you need me I’ll be stuffing my face. By the way, Lottie, Suze slipped me a twenty to give her all the dirt I know on you.”
I suck in a quick breath. “How dare she.”
“Don’t worry. I told her I’m not selling you out for a mere twenty bucks. She’d have to shell out a fifty at least.” She cranes her neck toward the tables. “Hey, wait. I think I see Suze waving Ulysses S. Grant in my direction. Gotta run.”
“Keelie!” I call after her. “Aren’t I worth more than a fifty dollar bill?”
But it’s too late. My former bestie has been swallowed whole by greed and the crowd.
Noah doesn’t miss his opportunity. He whisks us into the deep end of the dance floor, and soon we’re rocking to the beat. But the song ends abruptly and I look to the stage to see Chad winking at me as he starts in on that weepy country song he promised.
Noah pulls me in close. “Lottie Lemon, you are a vision. Motherhood becomes you. I vote we have a dozen kids.”
A laugh bubbles from me at the thought.
“Easy for you to say. My hips have been killing me, and have I mentioned the leaky boobs? And then there’s the little detail about not being able to see my feet. Half the time my shoes don’t match.”
“Trust me, Lot. With a face like yours, no one is looking at your feet.”
“You’re too kind.”
“And you’re too crafty. What did you glean with our suspect?”
I quickly recant the strange conversation I shared with Chad, and Noah takes a deep breath as he tries to process it all.
“He called her a cheap floozy the night she died,” he says. “And he wants to minimize the fact she was poisoned. The worst part? Just saying that he’s relieved she’s not here so that she could always belong to him makes him sound like an obsessed psychotic.”
“I hate to say it, but you’re right.” We move to the music and the baby gives Noah a solid kick over his side, and we both share a warm laugh.
“Someone is either glad to see me or trying to give me the boot, in a show of loyalty to their father.”
My mouth falls open. “Noah, that’s the first time I’ve heard you even hint that this baby might be Everett’s, at least seriously.”
“I guess there’s always a chance.” A mournful look takes over his face. “I think a part of the reason I’ve been so staunch in my conviction is because, well, at the risk of sounding like an obsessed psychotic, it was my way of holding onto you a little bit longer.”
“Noah.” My body bucks with emotion as I reach up and give the scruff on his face a light scratch. “Even if this baby is Everett’s, you will never be able to evict me out of your life. I care deeply about you, and yes, I still love you.”
His eyes close a moment, and he looks as if he is genuinely drinking down those words.
“Thank you, Lot. I guess I needed to hear it.” He leans in and lands a careful kiss to my cheek just as a shadow appears behind him.
Everett gives Noah a tap on the shoulder, and soon I’ve traded partners.
“Lemon.” Everett’s lids hood, and his lips curve at the tips. “There’s something about you and me at a wedding that just feels right.”
“Agree,” I tell him, pulling him a notch closer by the tie. “You know, in a month from now, we won’t be able to go anywhere for the next decade solid without hiring a babysitter.”
“Why do you think the universe sent us Noah?”
“Everett!” A laugh squawks from me as I give him a playful swat on the arm. “I say we cherish every free minute from this moment forward. Especially our nights. According to the war stories from the frontlines, Lainey says we won’t sleep for six months solid. Just FYI, Josie is six months old, and her rebellion against the night is still going strong.”
“That sounds rough. Then we most certainly had better take advantage of our last few baby-free nights. How about we take a page from Mr. and Mrs. Fisher’s playbook and do a little role-playing tonight? I’ll be the felon awaiting conviction, and you can be the hot baker I can hardly wait to take a bite out of on my last night on the outside.”
The smile glides right off my face. “You’re hilarious. But I’ll go along with this fantasy, and it is a fantasy, Everett. I may not hold a law degree, but I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you don’t spend a single day behind bars.”
His chest expands as he holds me tight, but Everett doesn’t say a word.
Everett isn’t going to prison on my watch. At least I pray he doesn’t pay for something foolish I led us into. I rest my head over his shoulder as I try to blink away the tears. Everett can’t go to prison. I’d leave the country with him if I had to.
How do you like that? I’d have mercy on Everett all day long, but I’ve spent the last couple of years mercilessly handing killers over to the sheriff’s department. But in Everett’s defense, he certainly didn’t kill anybody.
The only person I want to see behind bars any time soon is the person who thought it was a good idea to poison Verity Prescott—and the monster who is threatening my family via those wicked messages they’re sending to Evie.
And prison is exactly where they’ll be sooner than later.
Everett
Fiona called again and scheduled another meet-up at the bakery.
I didn’t tell Lemon why she was stopping by. There’s so much already spinning through her mind, I hate to redirect the focus on me and the looming legal debacle I’ve found myself in. Valentine’s Day is tomorrow. She should focus on something positive like that. Definitely not me or whatever is about to transpire this afternoon. But I know exactly what Fiona is going to want to discuss.
Seeing that she’s not here yet, I’m seated right up front at the counter with Lemon, while her mother and sisters sit to my right ordering decorations for the Valentine’s Day spectacle Cormack and Cressida are throwing. And whenever Lemon takes off to tend to the customers, Miranda and her daughters quickly add in a few decorations for the surprise baby shower they’re throwing Lemon next month. I’ll admit, it warms my heart to see them so excited about the baby.
Miranda turns my way. “Has Lottie even hinted at what kind of a crib she’d like?”
“Not yet,” I tell her. “But I can have her look at a few. Don’t worry about the crib, though. I don’t mind picking that up for her.”
“Thank goodness that’s all you’ll have to buy.” Lainey shakes her head at the screen. “You won’t believe how fast this baby stuff can add up.”
“Oh”—Miranda looks my way again—“ha
ve you painted the nursery?”
“Not yet.” I wince. “But I’m on it. We’ve already narrowed down the color.”
Meg scowls over at me. “Don’t wait until the last minute. Knowing my sister, she’ll freak out if the house smells like fumes when it’s time to bring the baby home. She might run away to Noah’s if you pull a stunt like that.”
“Good point.” And God knows I wouldn’t want that.
I toast Meg with my coffee as a show of appreciation.
“Don’t forget”—Lainey swipes a raspberry tart off the tray before her—“we’ve got class tonight at the hospital. We’ll be getting down to the nitty-gritty, so you won’t want to miss this one.”
“There’s no way I’m missing it.”
But will I be missing a majority of this baby’s childhood? That I cannot promise.
A slew of customers walk in and along with them is Juliet Jackowski from the knitting shop across the street.
Lemon waves her over. “Hey, Juliet. How about some coffee and a few raspberry tarts?” She cringes as the words speed from her mouth. “Sorry. You probably don’t want anything to do with those.”
“I would love those.” The kind brunette brushes it off. “I know there’s nothing wrong with your baking, Lottie.” She catches a glimpse of the laptop in front of Meg. “Ah, I see you’re visiting the Craft Emporium. That’s like my second home.”
“Mine, too,” Lainey chimes. “Have you seen the Valentine’s Day display in their store? It made me want to buy it all up and redecorate my house in little pink hearts.”
The woman laughs. “Actually, I haven’t seen the display. I spend my mornings doing troubleshooting for the tech department. It’s funny because the knitting shop doesn’t feel nearly as much mine as that place does. But then, I’ve been with the Craft Emporium for the last eight years.”
Miranda shakes her head. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to leave. I bet you get a nifty little discount. If that were me, I’d end up turning in my paycheck right back to them at the end of the week.”