Six Merry Little Murders

by Lee Strauss et al.

  An all too familiar girl with caramel-colored wavy hair and light hazel eyes steps over to Stacy, and soon they’re laughing it up over who knows what.

  “Speaking of my sister,” I say as I wave over to her, and she waves back while quickly returning to the conversation at hand with Stacy.

  Lainey is the head librarian at the Honey Hollow Public Library. She’s older than me by one year, and we happen to share the same caramel hair and light eyes—so much so that I had hoped my parents had the details of my adoption wrong. Apparently, I was discovered, all by my lonesome, as an infant swaddled up in a blanket on the floor of the fire department. The firefighter who found me, Joseph Lemon, said he never could let me go. And soon thereafter, Joseph and Miranda Lemon officially adopted me.

  A year later, they had my younger sister, Meg, who used to be a star attraction on the Las Vegas female wrestling circuit. Meg has since moved back to town and has no problem shaking things up in Honey Hollow with her larger-than-life personality.

  My father sadly passed away when I was in my teens. And seeing that I’m in my late twenties, that seems like a million years ago. But I’ll never forget him or the kind heart he freely shared with everybody. My own heart still aches for him each and every day.

  Pancake rouses to life and belts out an ear-piercing meow as he gives a quick look around with those icy blue eyes.

  “Whoa.” Everett gives him a quick scratch on the head. “What’s got you so stirred up, big guy? Did you see a ghost?” Everett winks my way. Both Everett and Noah are apprised of my transmundane status, further classified as supersensual. It’s true. I can see the dead. Mostly pets that have come back. But as fate or the universe would have it, it’s usually just when something horrific is about to happen to their previous owner. Outside of the disembodied visitors I’ve had over the last few months, the only other ghosts I see happen to be at my mother’s bed and breakfast.

  Noah shakes his head. “Ignore him, Pancake. There are no ghosts around.” He looks over at his old stepbrother and frowns. “Are you trying to jinx this night? You know what happens when Lottie sees one of those things.”

  Everett grunts, “Yeah—you get to work. If I were you, I’d start to worry about what people think about your constant proximity to the number of homicides you’re in charge of. You’re not drumming up business, are you?”

  Everett is teasing, but I can’t help but hush him. It’s true. I’ve stumbled upon my fair share of bodies this last year, and each time it was Noah who was the lead investigator in the case.

  I’m about to reprimand them both for bringing up such grisly things when an adorable black and white French bulldog trots up and nuzzles around my ankles.

  “Well, if you aren’t as adorable as a red ribbon on a wreath!” I bend over and give him a scratch between his cute pointed ears. There’s a brass nametag in the shape of a bone dangling from a collar around his neck and I flip it over. “Noel,” I read. “What a pretty name you have. Hey, I bet your owner is worried sick about you.”

  The tiny pooch cocks his head up at me adorably. “No, I can assure you they aren’t,” the sweet dog bellows it out in a deep baritone just as he up and disappears right before my eyes.

  “Oh my goodness.” I bolt upright and freeze.

  Noah lets out a quick breath. “You saw another one, didn’t you, Lottie?”

  “I did,” I whisper, still afraid to move a muscle.

  Noah shakes his head at Everett. “I knew you’d jinx it.”

  “I didn’t jinx anything. You’re the unlucky charm around here.” Everett leans in and catches my gaze. “Do you know what this means, Lemon?”

  I gulp hard and nod. “Murder is imminent.”

  2

  They say some people can sense things before they happen. They claim to get a niggling feeling, they smell something, or they get a vision before disaster strikes.

  Not me. I am always freshly surprised when a supernatural entity decides to pop in for an impromptu visit from the other side. And Lord knows I am never adequately prepared for the homicidal aftermath. A long time ago, when I first started seeing these velum-like apparitions floating nearby, it always meant something with far less mortal consequences like a skinned knee or a bruised shin. But as of late, it almost always means murder is afoot.

  Confession: I haven’t always been able to hear the dead. In fact, up until last year the dead weren’t able to do much of anything. But as my powers grew, so did their abilities. At first, they were able to move objects in the material world—a potential disaster of supernatural proportions. But, as of a couple of months ago, they’ve garnered the ability to talk as well. I’ll admit, it’s a bit unnerving listening to an animal speak to me in perfect English, but it’s something I’ve slowly grown accustomed to—so much so that I wish my sweet cats had harnessed the same strange ability.

  Noah pulls out his phone and begins texting away.

  “What are you doing?” I hike up on my tiptoes as a mild sense of panic strikes me.

  “Just a little preemptive action.” He flashes his screen at Everett and me. “I let Ivy know she should probably head over to the tree lot. Don’t worry. I was ambiguous as to why.”

  “Nice,” I quip. “I’m sure she’ll think you invited her over for a hot date.” I couldn’t help it. Detective Ivy Fairbanks is a leggy redhead who is as keen a homicide detective as she is gorgeous. And a part of me very much believes she has a thing for her handsome co-worker.

  Everett chuckles as he bumps his elbow to mine. “Something tells me he’ll be using poor Waffles as a chick magnet, too.”

  Noah offers a sideways glance to Everett. “I would never do that.” He drops a quick kiss to Waffles’ forehead. “Lottie, we need reinforcements. I’m going to call for backup, just a few cruisers to keep an eye on the periphery. It’s not an unusual request at this time of year. I promise, no one will think twice about it.”

  I’m about to protest, or agree, or most likely both, when I spot Lainey and Stacy heading over to Tamara and her friends, and I watch as Tamara’s eyes widen with horror.

  “Ooh, maybe I’d better get over there. I’d hate for Lainey to put herself in the middle of something without realizing it.”

  Everett wraps an arm around my shoulder. “I’m not leaving your side, Lemon.”

  “That’s fine.” I’ll be the last person to turn down the studly judge as a personal bodyguard. “Noah? Will you hold my place in line? I won’t be gone long.”

  Everett blinks a smile over at him. “Yes, Noah. Hold our place in line while we go off and have a good time.”

  I try to swat Everett, but he takes up my hand instead and kisses the back of it as we trek through the snow and make our way to where Lainey stands with a group of rather unhappy looking ladies.

  “Lottie.” Tamara offers me a meager smile. “I meant what I said. Your fudge is delicious. In fact, it’s the only good thing about this day.” She hardens her eyes over at Stacy as she says that last part.

  My heart thumps at the volatility of the situation. “I’m glad you like it.”

  Lainey steals Pancake right out of my arms. “And here’s my handsome little nephew.” She ticks her head toward her old friend and I quickly offer up a somber nod. “Lottie, you know Stacy.”

  “Hi, Stacy. Everyone.” I nod to the small crowd I’m regretfully holding at awkward attention. “I’m Lottie and this is my friend, Everett—Judge Baxter.”

  Tamara offers a somewhat pained smile at the two of us. “Nice to meet you, Judge Baxter. I’ve spent my fair share of time in a courtroom as of late. In fact, I’ll probably spend the rest of my life in court. I’ve probably seen you around the courthouse a time or two.” She nods his way. “Lottie, Judge Baxter, these are my friends, Joyce and Bonnie.” She waves a hand to the two women ensconcing her on either side, who look to be about the same age as Tamara. The blonde with her hair stacked up in a messy bun is quick to shake Everett’s hand.

  “Bonnie Du
pre.” Her silver eyes widen the size of dinner plates. Obviously, the woman is dazzled by the demigod by my side, as she should be. “I’m the accountant at Gray Farms. Clearly, I’ve been spending far too much time with barnyard animals. I didn’t realize they made men like you. Boy, am I ever glad I came out tonight. Are you free for drinks later?”

  The short brunette with bronzed skin and an overall exotic look about her quickly pushes Bonnie out of the way.

  “Don’t pay attention to her. Joyce Calypso.” She quickly picks up Everett’s hand and offers up an aggressive shake. “I’m Tamara’s personal trainer. Ready and willing to kick anyone’s behind who gets in her way.” She bats her lashes playfully up at Everett. “I’m not afraid to show off my moves to anyone who’s interested either. Can I buy you a cup of eggnog? Rumor has it, they’ve spiked it with rum this year.”

  Stacy leads Tamara off before Everett can respond, and Lainey hands me Pancake before following along with them.

  I look up at my handsome escort. “Would you excuse me for a moment?”

  “Sure.” He nods to Pancake and I gently hand him over. “Stay where Pancake and I can see you, Lemon. I mean it.”

  A dark rumble of a laugh strums through me. “You know I will. Steer clear of the liquor, would you?” I can’t help but make a face at Joyce before I take off for far more hostile waters.

  But, surprisingly, Stacy and Tamara seem to be sharing a laugh by the time I make it by my sister’s side.

  “What did I miss?” I give Lainey the crazy eyes because we both know these two women don’t have much to laugh about these days.

  Tamara waves it off. “Lainey reminded us of some stupid prank we pulled when we were seniors. I guess I can’t believe how long I’ve known the two of you.” She lifts her chin to Stacy. “Some have proven better friends than others.” She looks my way. “Hey, Lottie, while I have you here—I’m throwing a Christmas party for the employees at the farm, and I would love it if I could get you to cater the desserts for me. I’d bake them myself, but I’ve got another woman shuffling around my kitchen.” Her lips harden in a knot as she glances to Stacy. “I moved into the guest house a few months back, and I haven’t moved any of my baking supplies just yet.”

  “Not to worry. I’ve got you covered. Just call me with the details.”

  “Great. I’ll do it tonight, before I forget.”

  Stacy rolls her eyes at Tamara. “You know I’d leave the house for you to do whatever you wanted. I’ve already told you that a million times, but you just love to paint me in an unfavorable light.”

  Tamara straightens. “Pardon me? I like to paint you in an unfavorable light? I think you’re doing just fine on your own in that department. Maybe the fact that you flirted shamelessly with my husband and then stole him had something to do with it?”

  “I didn’t have to steal him—you locked him out emotionally.” Stacy takes a bold step in and Lainey quickly squeezes between them.

  “Hey, hey”—Lainey holds her hands out in an effort to separate the two—“let’s be civilized.”

  “No use in that,” a deep voice strums from behind as Scott Gray himself comes up looking winded and all around irritated by the situation at hand. He takes Stacy in his arms and pulls her in close before dotting a kiss to her cheek. “Is she bothering you again?”

  Tamara huffs, “Are you kidding? You’re concerned over the fact that I’m bothering her? It never fails to amaze me how I ended up being the bad guy in this scenario. Honestly, the two of you deserve one another. But I’ll tell you what you don’t deserve—one square inch of my land. I’m not caving, Scott. I’ll drag this thing out in court for decades if I have to.”

  “You’ll bankrupt us both!” he bellows so loud everyone in the vicinity turns to stare.

  “And I’ll be glad to do it!” she shouts right back.

  Bonnie and Joyce scuttle over and pull Tamara off toward the woods.

  Scott stumbles back with Stacy in his arms. “Don’t worry. She’s not getting an ounce of dirt from me. I broke my back in those fields while she sat around staring at her phone. It’ll be over my dead body that I hand over the reins to the farm. If she thinks she’s going to drain me financially, I’ve got news for her. I’ll drain her.” They take off and Lainey quickly latches onto my arm.

  “He’ll drain her?” Lainey shudders at the thought. “That sounds ominous. I think maybe both Tamara and Stacy should get a restraining order on him.”

  “He’s just worked up.” I shake my head as I watch him and Stacy take off for the woods themselves, and suddenly I’m glad that Noah called for backup. “What were you thinking letting Stacy anywhere near Tamara tonight? You know they have a dicey relationship.”

  “I know, I know, but Stacy said she had something she needed to ask for and wanted me there as a buffer.”

  “What did she ask for?”

  “She didn’t have a chance. You showed up with Mr. Sexy and cast a spell on Tamara’s friends.”

  “Speaking of which,” I turn around to see an entire blob of women surrounding the tall, far too comely for his own safety judge, “I’d better free both him and Pancake.”

  “Does that mean you’re finally making a decision between Noah and Everett? Is it Mr. Sexy for the win?”

  “I’m not choosing. I mean, I’m not ready to choose.” I grimace as the crowd of estrogen surrounding him only grows by the second. “Let’s just say I’m weighing my options. Which is not an easy task when both options are pretty stellar.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’ve got this gargantuan decision to make and not me. I’m lousy at decision-making—and I’m greedy. I’d probably choose both. Speaking of choosing both, Mom and Meg are somewhere trying to choose the tree for the B&B. If I don’t help out, Mom will probably have a tree for every room in that haunted place before the night is through.”

  She takes off and I make my way toward the crowd of estrogen surrounding my favorite legal eagle. Not shocking in the least. Everett gets the attention from both the young and old everywhere we go.

  It’s not as easy as it looks plucking Everett away from fifty hormonal women who all seem to want to buy the good judge a drink.

  I take him by the hand as I try to navigate us back to Noah and that impossibly long line that only seems to be growing in both directions.

  “You’re not thirsty, are you, Everett?” I tease as we head back with Pancake curled in his arms and sleeping.

  “Only if you’re buying. Better yet, why don’t you come by for a nightcap? We can quench our thirst together.”

  We come upon Noah and Waffles before I can answer and I bite my lip as I shrug up at Everett instead.

  About forty minutes drift by with the line moving so painfully slow I feel as if I owe both Everett and Noah a drink for asking them to stand in the snow with me just so my cats can get a picture with Santa. I’m about to tell them exactly that when I spot Stacy speaking with Joyce and Bonnie, and not a sign of Tamara anywhere.

  “You know”—I take Waffles from Noah—“my legs are going numb. I think I’m going to take a quick walk.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Noah is quick to offer. “Everett, I think it’s your turn to hold our place in line.”

  Everett holds Pancake close to his chest. “There are some people and pets that I’d risk hypothermia for.” He frowns over at Noah. “Good luck losing him, Lemon.”

  A tiny laugh bubbles in my chest as I lead Noah off in the direction Stacy stands with Tamara’s friends.

  “That’s funny,” I say. “They seem to be having an amicable conversation. But where’s Tamara? Her ex was fuming at her earlier. It got pretty ugly.”

  Noah shakes his head at the thought. “I never understood how two people who were once so in love could let things turn so ugly.” He winces a moment as if he regrets his words. Noah and I have let it get ugly a time or two—granted not to this degree. “Where did you see Tamara last?”

  “They were all headed that way, t
o the woods.”

  “There’s an overlook there. Maybe they were looking at the view?”

  A thought comes to me. “Hey? Maybe Tamara’s still there taking in the lights of Honey Hollow. You know, clearing her head?”

  Noah and I speed off to the woods and make our way to the overlook, but there’s no sign of Tamara anywhere.

  “She’s not here.” I sigh as I go to lean against the old fence railing that butts up to a steep embankment, but Noah pulls me back.

  “Careful, Lottie. That old wooden fence looks as if it’s rotted away. You almost fell right into the ravine.”

  “Oh my God.” I press up against his chest just as my eye snags on jagged pieces of wood. “Noah, the fence doesn’t look rotted out. It looks as if it’s been snapped.”

  Noah pulls out his phone and uses it as a flashlight as we lean over to inspect the ravine below.

  Lying at the bottom is an all too familiar brunette with her limbs splayed out, and she just so happens to have my walnut fudge strewn all over her chest. Beside her sits a faithful French bulldog whose flesh glows an ethereal blue.

  Tamara won’t have to worry about spending the rest of her life in court.

  Tamara Gray is dead.

  3

  A violent wind whistles by and the earth beneath my feet seems to grow unsteady.

  A horrid cry comes from my throat as I quickly tuck my face into Noah’s neck.