The second leather folder is from the Bank of Honey Hollow, and by the looks of this, everything in here has to do with Cormack’s expenses. She really does have her father on a string.

  And the third folder is from the Bank of the Coral Reef in Nevis.

  I open it up and I hold my breath as I peruse each and every transaction.

  Bingo.

  I just hit paydirt. I pull out my phone and take a quick shot of the first page.

  “Noah?”

  I look up and find Manchester Featherby glaring over at me.

  He takes a few steps forward. “What exactly is it that you’re doing there, son?”

  Everett

  “Great news, Lemon.” I pull her close as Lyla Nell goes down for the count in the nursery. “I tested the radius of this little gadget and we can be clear over on Mars and we’d still hear every breath our baby girl takes.” I hold the baby monitor in the palm of my hand.

  Lemon bats that forest of lashes my way. “And just where in this solar system do you think you’re going to take me?”

  “On a magical mystery date.”

  “A do-over? No Carlotta?”

  “No Carlotta.” I close my eyes, trying to banish the thought.

  “But it’s nine o’clock.” A tiny laugh bumps from her. “I’m all ready for bed.”

  “Even better.” I take her by the hand and help her with her coat before putting on mine, and we trek out into the night.

  “It’s awfully dark at Noah’s house.” She nods across the street.

  “His Christmas lights are on.”

  “Yeah, but those are on a timer,” she says. “It’s pitch dark inside his cabin. And his truck isn’t in his driveway.”

  “A storm is pushing through. He probably parked in the garage.”

  But Lemon and I both know that he never does that.

  I pause for a moment as I stare down his cabin as if it were Noah himself.

  “He’s fine,” I say it just as much for myself as I do for Lemon. “He’ll be back soon enough.”

  I scoop Lemon up in my arms and run her next door to the palatial nightmare that is our future home. I spent the big bucks to hire a cleaning crew to get every piece of broken glass out of here from top to bottom. New mirrors are being installed next week, and anything that was broken is being replaced. I’m not letting some petulant poltergeist ruin my holiday gift to Lemon.

  “Everett.” She laughs with every step I take. “What in the world are you up to? Please tell me that a dozen people aren’t going to pop up from behind the furniture. I don’t think I could relive that day.”

  A dark laugh comes from me. “They had better not. Tonight is just about you and me.” I hold the baby monitor up where she can see it. “And maybe Lyla Nell.”

  I carry her over the threshold once again and turn on the lights with nothing more than the command from my voice. I carry her all the way to our new bedroom, where I command the fireplace to ignite and mood music to play overhead.

  I set her gently down on her feet as we begin to sway to the music.

  “Why, Judge Baxter”—Lemon purrs in my arm—“I do believe you are a true romantic. And this new house might just be as smart as you.”

  I press my finger to my lips then hers and she takes a playful bite out of it.

  “Is that a promise?” I tease.

  Lemon laughs just as my phone buzzes in my pocket.

  I fish it out and note it’s a text from Noah.

  At least I know he’s alive. I flick my phone off and bury it deep in my pocket again. Whatever the heck he wants it can wait.

  I give Lemon’s lips a peck before taking in my beautiful wife.

  “May I have this and every dance for the rest of our lives?” I ask as I press my body closer to hers and we move as one to the rhythm.

  She tosses her head back and yet another laugh bubbles through her.

  “Yes, Everett.” She shakes her head at me. “You didn’t even need to ask. It’s a given. You don’t need to ask a single thing of me.”

  “Good.” I take a nip out of her neck and she laughs twice as hard. “Because I’m about to take a few liberties.”

  And I do exactly that.

  Lemon takes a few liberties as well.

  We trek home a few hours later, sneaking back to our room like a couple of teenagers not wanting to get caught by their parents.

  Noah’s driveway is still empty. I check my phone and the message he sent simply says call me.

  But it’s past midnight, and I’ve got an early date with the criminal justice system.

  Sorry, Noah. I’m beat.

  He’s probably just working late.

  What could possibly go so wrong that I should need to call him?

  I wrap my arms around Lemon and fall fast asleep.

  Lottie

  Noah must have gotten home late and left early because by the time I left for the bakery his truck was missing again.

  I texted and let him know that tonight was the Christmas pageant at the community center and that Evie would love it if he could make it. He texted right back and let me know he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

  The community center is located west of the bakery, and judging by the crowds gathered inside the cavernous building, everyone in town has shown up on this frozen snowy night.

  Miles of folding chairs have been set out in a half-circle. Black velvet curtains frame the stage at the back of the room, and someone seated at the piano is playing cheery Christmas carols as the crowd eases themselves into their seats.

  “All right, Lot Lot,” Carlotta says as she surveys the crowd. “You tell me where you want to sit and I’ll make sure to clear a row for all our friends and family.”

  “There’s no way we’re going to be able to sit together,” I say, craning my neck as people swarm the building.

  Everyone is so elegantly dressed, it adds that extra festive flair that only the holidays can bring. Of course, the garland, the string lights, and the massive Christmas tree lit up with giant colorful bulbs do a good job of annunciating the arrival of the big day itself. Every breath you take in this place feels like Christmas morning.

  “I only see a couple of seats together,” I tell her. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to split up.”

  Lyla Nell shouts something and her tiny brows crinkle into her forehead.

  “Come here, princess,” Everett says as he takes her from me. “Wherever we land, I’ll make sure you get a good view of your big sister.”

  Everett came straight from the courthouse, and with his dark inky suit, he’s turned more than his fair share of heads as women climb over one another to get a better look at him.

  “Don’t worry, Lot,” Carlotta insists. “Just tell me how many seats you think we’ll be needing, and I’ll handle the rest. I’ve got a tried-and-true method for clearing an entire aisleway of seats within seconds.”

  I stare her down a moment. “If this in any way involves bodily functions, forget about it.”

  Carlotta gags. “But those are some of my best strategies. Look at Little Yippy. She’s not above producing a stinky diaper now and again to get what she wants.”

  I frown over at the woman who bore me. “Do not cause a stink tonight. Evie and my mother are performing up there, and I don’t want to get kicked out along with you.”

  “No one is kicking us out, Lot. Harry is running this holiday hoedown. We’re practically untouchable. We could light this place on fire, and there’s not a thing the town can do about it. Face it, Lot. We’re Honey Hollow royalty.”

  Lyla Nell laughs and claps.

  “That’s right, Little Yippy.” Carlotta gives the baby’s foot a tug. “You’re in on that royal number. You can stomp on all the other kids on the playground and Grandpa Harry will give you a pardon. And if someone makes you really mad, we’ll lock ’em in the tower and cut off their heads.”

  “Whoa.” Everett turns Lyla Nell so she can’t see Carlotta. “Don’t even joke that way with her. Carlotta, kids are sponges. She doesn’t know the difference between reality and the fact you’re teasing.”

  “Who said I was teasing?”

  I shake my head as I look at the program in my hand. “Let’s see where Evie and my mother fall in the lineup. Maybe if they’re up early I can barter baked goods for someone in the front row.”

  “Front row is too close to the stage, Lot. Little Yippy will get a crick in her neck trying to look up all night,” Carlotta says, opening her own program. “Besides, my techniques work best near the middle of the room. I like creating a radius around me.”

  “Don’t worry, Lemon. I’ve got my techniques, too. We’ll have the best view in the house.”

  “Thank you,” I tell him. Although I’m just about as wary about Everett’s practices in a crowd full of mostly women as I am of Carlotta’s. Speaking of women… “After this is over, I’m half-tempted to track down my next suspect, Belle Yulemen. I can’t believe she did time in prison because she took a hit out on her husband.” I told Everett all about it as soon as he showed up at the tree lot that day.

  Carlotta shakes her head. “That woman is a hero.” She brings her program to her nose. “Did you say Belle Yulemen?”

  “That’s right,” I tell her. “Apparently, she went back to her maiden name after the divorce.”

  “Well, she’s right here.” Carlotta flicks the back of the program and I turn mine around.

  “Hey, she’s not kidding,” I say to Everett. “She’s listed here as one of the pageant coordinators. “Everett, my next suspect is behind that stage somewhere.”

  He pulls out his phone and his thumbs jot over it. “I just informed Noah and told him to get down here asap.”

  “I am certainly not waiting for Noah,” I huff at the thought. “That woman has a show to run. I need to catch her before it begins, or I may never get the chance to speak with her.”

  “No,” Everett says emphatically. “We are not putting Lyla Nell at risk and landing her anywhere near a murder suspect. The woman could be dangerous.”

  “Evie is back there with that woman.”

  Everett’s eyes widen. “Carlotta, you’ll have to watch Lyla Nell.”

  “Are you nuts?” I say, taking Lyla Nell from him before he hands her off to a far more dangerous woman—Carlotta. “She’s liable to sell her to the circus.” I scan the crowd. “I see Charlie. She’s seated next to Lainey and Meg right up front. We’ll ask one of them to watch her for a minute.”

  We head on down, and Charlie snags Lyla Nell from me before I even ask.

  “Lyla Nell adores her Aunt Charlie, even if she does call her Mama more than she calls me by that moniker,” I say as Carlotta, Everett, and I make our way backstage. “I’m pretty sure Lyla Nell knows that we’re two different people even if our faces are alike.”

  “Who knows what’s going on in Little Yippy’s curly head,” Carlotta says. “All we know is, she thinks Cha Cha is the fun version of you. Face it, Lot. You’re the warden in this scenario. You tell her what to eat, wear—and at night, you lock her up behind bars. We all know where this relationship is going. Bets are on that she runs away and moves in with Cha Cha by the time she’s thirteen.”

  “Everett.” I give his hand a squeeze as I pull us through the crowd, up the stairs, and backstage into what looks to be a whirling tornado of stagehands moving props, performers in glittery uniforms, and a giant gold and crimson sleigh. “I’ll need a restraining order against both Carlotta and Charlie when the time is right.”

  “I’m on it.” He gives a squeeze right back. “There’s Evie.” He points to the left of the sleigh where Evie stands with a couple of her friends. They’re each wearing tight green dresses and have a large silver bell in their hands.

  “Evie!” I give her a wave as we head on over. “You look so beautiful,” I say, patting her hair. Her makeup is heavy, lots of red lipstick, and she looks twenty-seven more than she does seventeen.

  “Thank you,” she says, pulling both Everett and me into a hug.

  “I have flowers for you in the car,” Everett says. “I was worried Lyla Nell might try to eat them when I wasn’t looking.”

  I nod because it’s happened before.

  “Cool,” Evie says. “Oh, Mom, wait until you see Glam Glam. She’s really throwing all she’s got into her number.” She holds her hands out in front of her chest and lets us know exactly what my mother is throwing.

  “Wonderful.” I frown past her. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have met a woman by the name of Belle Yulemen, have you?”

  “Oh yeah.” She hitches her thumb behind her. “It’s the blonde woman over there with the purple jacket and red scarf. She’s one of the people in charge. In fact, she tried to rope me into doing another number, but I’m not feeling it. I guess there were some no-shows tonight.”

  Carlotta rolls up her sleeves. “I can feel my fifteen minutes coming on like a cold.” She makes a beeline for the woman and I cringe.

  “More like the plague,” I say as I give Evie a kiss on the cheek. “Break a leg—but not really.”

  Everett and I speed over to where Carlotta has the poor woman cornered and I quickly hold out my hand.

  “Lottie Lemon”—I force a smile—“please, whatever she said, ignore her. She hasn’t been properly medicated today.” Or diagnosed, but I have a feeling both of those things are merely formalities. “This is my husband Everett.”

  “Belle Yulemen. Nice to meet you both.” The blonde shakes my hand and does a double take at Everett. “Well, talk about a bad day getting worse.” She nods my way. “Carlotta here just told me that you and your husband would love to play the part of Mr. and Mrs. Claus. They’re not speaking parts, and we’ll just need you for about five minutes at the end where you’ll be pulled onto the stage in a sleigh,” she says, glancing at the giant sleigh in question.

  Everett shakes his head. “I don’t think I’d make a good Santa.”

  I give his hand a hard squeeze.

  I need Everett to play along.

  If we take on those roles, we’ll have access to Belle all night.

  “I’ll be happy to do it, even if he won’t,” I tell the woman.

  “Wonderful!” Belle leans in and I can see how pretty her light blue eyes are—they practically glow in this dull light. Her face has a smattering of freckles, and it gives off that fresh-faced girl next-door appeal. “But now I still need to fill two roles, Santa and the magical elf.”

  Carlotta chuckles. “I’m sure Foxy will take up the role of Santa if you don’t want it, Sexy. But you know Lot Lot likes a team player. If Foxy commits to being the man with the bag, that will leave you wearing funny ears for the night.”

  “I’ll be Santa,” Everett tells the woman.

  For as flighty as Carlotta can be, she can also hit the nail on the head of reality every now and again, too. Or in the least, she has a few good scare tactics up her sleeve.

  “Great!” Belle’s eyes bug out with glee. “I’ll get you all fitted with your costumes right away. Follow me.”

  A spray of miniature red and green stars lights up the vicinity as Chris Kringle shows up in all his full Santa regalia.

  “Ho, ho, ho.” He holds his belly as he belts out the Christmas-themed chuckle. “Goodness, I’ve been to my fair share of holiday pageants.” He looks a bit dismayed to be at yet another one. “But it is that time of year. I suppose they’re unavoidable at this point.” He frowns as he glides next to me. “So this is the next suspect, I take it?”

  I give a little nod his way. I don’t see Jordan around, and honestly, right now that’s a good thing. It’s bad enough I have Carlotta to tend with.

  “She has a kind face.” Chris nods as he inspects the woman. “But her eyes, they’ve seen pain. At first glance, I don’t know that I’d peg her as the killer.”

  I’ll agree with him on that, but I’ve seen killers of every shape or size, innocent or not. Anyone is capable of murder if pulled to the brink of insanity. And certainly, Belle Yulemen is no exception. In fact, she’s already flirted with the idea of being the Grim Reaper by way of that mob hit she scheduled.

  And then it occurs to me—the perfect segue.

  Belle leads us into a well-lit room with a few people milling around near the back.

  She turns our way. “I’ll get your costumes for you and show you your marks. It’s so easy it’s laughable.”

  “Thank you.” I shoot Everett a look. “And Belle? I have someone who can play the part of the magical elf, my ex-husband.” Okay, so technically, Noah is my current husband, but I’m not getting into the ins and outs of my marital debacles at the moment.

  “Your ex?” She steps up to a box sitting on a table, marked accessories, and pauses from opening it. “Do you really want to work with your ex?”

  I shrug. “We share a baby. He’s sort of in my face all the time.”

  Chris pulls a white curly wig out of the box and it seemingly looks as if it’s floating, so I snatch it midair and hand it to Everett.

  Belle closes her eyes a moment. “I know how that goes. I share my boys with my ex. Let’s just say it’s been more than a rocky road.”

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her. “We don’t have it that easy either. He’s with his new wife right now, but they should be here at any moment.”

  “A new wife?” she balks. “And you share a baby?” She shakes her head. “Looks as if he moved pretty fast.”

  “That’s our Foxy.” Carlotta reaches into the box and pulls out a tambourine and hands it to Chris, and my eyes bulge at the sight.

  I reach over and snatch it from him.

  Good Lord, I’d better make this quick. Carlotta and Chris have zero interest in keeping this conversation grounded in reality.

  Carlotta growls at me, “Lot Lot here is just bitter because Foxy found someone blonder, richer, and prettier.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Is that so?” Belle gives a dark laugh, but her features harden as if she’s reflecting on her own life. “Well, I can relate to you, Lottie. My husband left me for a pretty brunette. Women who would like to snag your husband come in every shape, size, and color. Remember that.” Her eyes snag on Everett. “You’ve got a real looker on your hands. No offense, Everett, but you’ve got to keep your guard up, too. Women are probably throwing themselves at you twenty-four seven. And don’t try to deny it. I wouldn’t believe you anyway.” Her eyes close tight. “I might as well tell you—I mean, just about everyone here knows, but I went away for a few years after trying to put a hit out on my own ex.”

 

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