Cookie exchange executio.., p.6
Cookie Exchange Execution, page 6
And since it’s Christmas, we’ve gone all out—some might say overboard with the holiday decorations. Evergreen boughs bejeweled with ruby red ornaments and bright red bows line the windows and walls. An entire snowman family sits along my counter, and there’s a flocked Christmas tree in the corner adorned with colorful blinking lights along with my scrumptious cookie ornaments in the shape of stockings, reindeer, snowmen, and Santa himself. My eyes linger on him a moment and I shiver.
I blink back to reality and spot Noah’s sister Sam in the corner with her head knit with that woman I met last night, Tannen something. Drummond, I think. They came in about an hour ago, ordered coffee and a cinnamon roll each, and got straight to reminiscing about who knows what.
Carlotta is sitting at the counter, noshing on a slice of my peppermint cream Charlotte Royale. It’s a dome-shaped cake with raspberry jellyrolls on the outside and a whipped custard filling. I thought I’d put a holiday spin on it, but it’s still in the experimental stages.
“How do you like it?” I pose the question to Carlotta, despite the fact I’m afraid to ask.
“Tastes like toothpaste,” she mutters through a mouthful of my toothpaste custard.
“Would you please keep your negativity down?” I lift a finger to my lips. “I’ll tweak the recipe.”
“It’s going to take more than a little tweaking.” Carlotta gives a wistful tick of the head. “The only thing that can save this recipe is the trash can.”
Suze titters at the thought. “You slay me, Carlotta. It’s a seasonal joke. Get it? Slay? Sleigh?” She looks my way and the smile drops right off her face.
Suze slays me, too.
The bell on the door chimes and in walks Evie, along with her blonde best friend, Dash.
“Geebie!” Lyla Nell bounces like mad in the contraption I have her strapped in, and Evie darts right over and plucks her out of it.
“Come here, you little peanut.” Evie gives Lyla Nell a kiss right in her left dimple and elicits an entire string of giggles from her little sister.
Evie is gloriously gorgeous, much to her father’s chagrin. She’s taller than me by a foot, God forbid she wears heels, has long raven-black hair that she meticulously coils each and every morning, and daring blue eyes just like her papa.
Dash is her blonde bubbly counterpart. They’ve been inseparable ever since Evie rolled into town over a year ago, and they’ve been racking up the shenanigans ever since.
“How’s the beginning of Christmas break shaping up for you two?” I ask.
The Honey Hollow School District has allotted their students an obscene amount of time off for the holiday season. When I was a kid, it was two weeks. And most years we had to come back on January second.
“We got jobs at the Jolly Holly Tree Lot,” Dash is quick to inform me of their newly minted employed status. “Most of the kids from school will be working there. I guess the other people they hired froze their feet off. They were really old anyway.”
Evie nods my way. “About your age and Dad’s.”
“You still want Christmas presents, right?” I tease. I’m mostly teasing anyway.
She laughs. “Oh, and by the way—Dash, Rachel, and I are performing in the Christmas pageant at the community center next week. Everyone is invited. And Glam Glam is doing an act, too. I don’t know what, but I saw her name on the roster.”
“Of course, I’ll be there.”
My mother in a Christmas pageant? Lord help us all.
“What’s cookin’, Evie Stevie?” Carlotta asks, snagging her attention. “Did you get that stuff I asked for?” Carlotta gives her the side-eye as if whatever stuff she asked for was strictly forbidden.
“I’ll bite. What stuff?” I ask, fully expecting to get the runaround.
It’s not my first rodeo with these two.
Why Evie continues to collude with Carlotta is beyond me. Everett keeps Evie’s pockets lined with cash, so I don’t see any monetary reasons.
“We can’t tell you, Mom.” Evie winks over at me. “But I promise you’ll know exactly what’s going on in about half an hour.” She hitches her thumb toward the snowy window. “Conner and Kyle are out there right now setting everything up.”
I glance out the window, and sure enough, I see two beefy high school steeds, Conner and Kyle, the boyfriends of Evie and Dash respectively.
“Setting what up?” I’m about to head that way when Keelie, my own blonde bestie, and Charlie walk in from the Honey Pot Diner. Keelie has worked at the Honey Pot ever since she got out of high school, and she happens to be the manager now. Thankfully, she and Charlie get along great since they’re practically joined at the hip now.
I’m about to offer up a cheery greeting when Evie and Dash bolt their way and the four of them start in on what looks to be a secretive conversation.
“What do you think is going on over there?” I squint over at them as they whisper among themselves, stealing glances my way every now and again.
“I bet they’re planning to buy you a present, Lot,” Carlotta says, pushing her peppermint cream Charlotte Royale away as Suze replaces it with a slice of my luscious chocolaty Yule log.
“I doubt they’re plotting to buy me anything,” I say.
“Perhaps they’re planning your demise?” Suze suggests with a touch of glee in her voice.
Lily grunts as she shakes her head, “Maybe they’re plotting to steal your seductive superpowers?”
A bubbly laugh comes from behind as Sam and Tannen step this way.
“Steal your seductive superpowers?” Sam wiggles her shoulders as she says it. “I could use some of those if you don’t mind sharing.” She looks to her friend. “Lottie here has my brother and my ex on the hook.” She makes a face my way. “How about you put my poor brother out of his misery and give Essex to me? That sounds like a fair trade.” Her voice grows husky as she says that last part.
“No deal,” I tell her and she laughs all the more.
“Don’t worry. Now that Essex knows I’m Noah’s twin, I don’t think I stand a chance to have him put his bread in my oven again.”
My mouth falls open in horror while the rest of them chortle at the verbal offense—not to mention the visual.
“Don’t you go getting all uptight on us, Lot,” Carlotta says, getting off her stool. “You’re the only oven that man is interested in. Foxy is pretty interested in turning up the heat with you, too. I think Lily is onto something. You’ve got seductive superpowers. And don’t think for a minute you didn’t get them from me. I’ll see you all later. It’s time for me to hone my own superpowers—making a stack full of dollar bills appear in my pocket.” She ducks out into the snowy afternoon and makes her way to the front of the store where she speaks to Conner and Kyle.
Wonderful.
I can’t wait to see what disaster Carlotta has cooking this time.
Tannen stands holding her coat, and I can’t help but notice she’s wearing another midriff-baring sweater. I’m sure glad Evie hasn’t caught onto that trend. Not only would it give Everett a heart condition, but I’d worry she’d get pneumonia every time she stepped out into the elements.
“I’m so sorry about your friend,” I tell her.
Tannen sniffs as she nods. “Thank you.” Her long dark hair is pulled back and the blonde streaks running through it are all the more pronounced. “I can’t believe she’s gone. I mean, Dr. North was always so in control. If she said jump, you asked how high. She had every minute of every day plotted out for herself and everyone around her. And those last few minutes—I can’t imagine what went through her mind. She was completely out of control. I’m sure it wasn’t the way she envisioned the evening, or her life, ending.” She shudders hard as she takes in a deep breath. “So very sad.”
“It truly is,” I say, pressing a hand to my chest. “Tannen, does anything from last night stand out to you? Did anything come to you this morning that maybe you didn’t think of last night?”
I already spoke to her about what could have happened, and she filled me in on the fact Virginia was having an argument with Karen—but that Karen didn’t look all that invested.
She shakes her head. “Nothing from last night, but I asked around about that redhead I was telling you about? Her name is Virginia Angelo, and someone I know overhead a part of their conversation.” She glances over her shoulder. “Apparently, Virginia has a very dark secret, and that secret had her angry enough to do just about anything.”
“Tannen, who did you hear this from?”
Her phone pings in her hand and she glances at the screen.
“It’s Cole.” She sighs. “He says he needs to speak with me. Probably something to do with all the loose strings Dr. North’s left behind. I’m sorry.” She looks at Sam. “I have to go. It was nice seeing you again, Lottie.”
“Wait”—I call out—“who was the person who overheard the conversation?” But she’s already out the door and in her place comes an entire horde of customers.
A beefy man leads the charge as he steps up to the register. “We’re here for the cookie of death.”
Suze groans as she looks to Sam. “It’s that silly Last Thing They Ate Tour. Miranda sends the people that tour her haunted spectacle of a B&B over once they’re through and sheer chaos ensues.”
“Which cookie was it?” someone shouts from the back as the bakery fills up with enough people to push the fire code to the limit.
I shake my head over at Lily and Suze. It’s best some things remain a mystery.
A few years back, my mother started her Haunted Honey Hollow B&B tours. She charges eighty bucks a pop, and once the ghosts that live at her B&B are through spine chilling and thrilling the ghostly rubber-neckers, my mother ships them all off to my bakery for what she’s dubbed as the Last Thing They Ate Tour. Suze had it right.
“I’ll let you get to your customers,” Sam says as she gives a little wave to Lily and Suze before turning to me. “You might have the power of seduction, but I suggest you keep your powers trained on the husband you take to bed at night. Leave my brother out of it. I see the way he looks at you. He clearly didn’t get the memo that you’re taken. Don’t make a bad situation worse. You don’t want to push me on this, Lottie. I can be fierce when it comes to taking care of my family. I have Noah’s back. You’d better watch yours.”
“What?” I can hardly wrap my head around her words as she sails out the door. I thought Sam and I were in a good place. “Did she just threaten me?”
“Where are the ghosts?” someone shouts from the back as the mob grows angrier by the moment, demanding a replica of the cookie that was stuffed into that poor woman’s mouth.
“Which cookie, Lottie?” Lily panics. “The natives are growing restless.”
“It was a Christmas cookie,” I shout over their wild cries. “You can have any one of them.”
The crowd grows that much angrier at my refusal to play their ghoulish game, but I don’t care. I can’t run out of gingerbread cookies. They’re my best sellers.
A deafening peal of thunder goes off, and oddly, it sounds as if it were coming from the ceiling of the bakery. The lights flicker and spasm. All at once, the bakery shelves fly open, and every cookie in the shop rises into the air and begins to churn clockwise in what looks to be one heck of a tasty tornado.
Screams erupt. Flashes go off as people struggle to document the melee on their phones. Maniacal laughter breaks out overhead, and judging by the oohs and ahhs circling the room, everyone here is privy to it.
The room darkens unnaturally. A spray of red and green stars appears over the ceiling as two ghostly figures begin to materialize—the ghost of skeleton Santa, who happens to look horrifically frightening, and by his side is a menacing version of Jordan Montclair. They both let out a deafening roar that makes that tornado of cookies spin all that much faster, and the hair of everyone in this building stands on end as a gust of wind funnels throughout the room.
“Stand back, Lottie Lemon,” Jordan calls out from the ceiling.
The skeleton in a Santa suit laughs twice as hard. Then, in a puff of red smoke, they both do a vanishing act.
The wind cuts out, and it rains cookies, much to the delight of the ghost-hunting masses. I shout for everyone to leave with their free treats, and to my surprise they do.
Evie and Charlie come this way and Evie hands me a rather happy Lyla Nell. I can’t help but note that Keelie slinked back to the Honey Pot. That’s odd. If I didn’t know better, I’d think my bestie was avoiding me. But then again, someone needs to man the fort next door.
“Wow, Mom”—Evie slings an arm over my shoulder—“that flying cookie thing was pretty cool. But if you don’t want to get the reputation for the most haunted bakery in the country, I suggest you keep the spirits on a leash.”
I nod because she’s right. Evie is one of the few people who knows about my supernatural quirk.
Outside the window, a crowd has amassed around Carlotta.
“What’s going on out there, Evie?” Charlie asks. Charlie and I share the same caramel hair, same hazel eyes, and same face. Charlie is a little rougher around the edges, and that translates into bravery for her. It used to translate into taking her clothes off at the local strip club, but thankfully, after a little persuading, it manifests itself in far richer personal exploits these days.
Evie sighs. “Cray Cray is selling hot dogs and frosted Oreos to tick the two of you off. She says she not only wants to steal your profits—she wants to make your blood boil. She said it was her Christmas gift to herself.”
“Sounds like Carlotta,” I say. “I think hanging out in the bitter frost will be lesson enough for her.”
Charlie huffs, “She wishes she was getting off that easily. Sorry, Lottie, but I don’t leave my dirty work to the weather. Carlotta Sawyer is going to rue the day she tried to steal a nickel from my back pocket.” She nods to Evie. “Watch a master and learn. I might take a minute to exact my revenge, but only because I like to catch them unawares.” She claws the air in Carlotta’s direction. “You’re going down, old woman.”
She takes off and Lyla Nell claps as if it were the best performance she’s seen.
Flying cookies, a kooky Carlotta, one very ticked off Charlie, and a homicidal maniac on the loose.
The holidays in Honey Hollow are off to a killer start.
Lottie
There is something magical about Honey Hollow at dusk, but add a touch of winter magic, and it feels as if you’re enveloped in a snow globe filled with evergreens dusted with powdered sugar.
The wooden sign outside of my mother’s B&B reads Welcome to the Honey Hollow Bed and Breakfast. And just beyond that stands the palatial white mansion, with its wrought ironwork across the balconies and along the expansive front porch.
Back when Cormack and Cressida each owned a fifty percent stake, they had this place doused in hot pink from the floor to the ceiling, and the exterior was no exception. They even gave the place a ridiculous new name that I don’t care to bring to mind. But thanks to one very public paternity reveal—the deal I worked out with Cressida to regain her half of the B&B—and one fake, albeit real, marriage between Cormack and Noah—Cormack’s deal—the place fully belongs to my mother once again.
The parking lot is congested, a sure sign that all of my mother’s gingerbread mixer dreams are coming true, but I manage to squeeze in behind the kitchen where the service vehicles typically park.
I scoop up Lyla Nell in her adorable red coat, and her fifty-pound diaper bag—or at least it feels that heavy. Both Noah and Everett said they’d meet us here after work, and that’s fine by me. I still have a little time, and hopefully that will be enough for me to case out my shiny new suspect, Virginia Angelo.
Tannen mentioned that Virginia was talking to Dr. Karen North about a secret last night, and I’m determined to find out exactly what that secret might be.
“Here we are,” I say to Lyla Nell just as we’re about to enter in through the back door of the conservatory as it sits wide open. “I didn’t tell your daddy that I was going to question a suspect because he has a habit of getting in the way of my investigations.”
“Is that so?” a deep voice strums as Noah himself steps into the doorway, looking lean and mean in a tweed jacket and jeans, and the look on his face is less than amused.
Lyla Nell gives a hearty laugh as if she relished the fact we were sneaking around behind Noah’s back. Although technically, I’ll be conducting my line of questioning right out in the open. And now that he’s apprised of my plans for the evening, there won’t be any need for sneaking around.
“Lottie Lemon.” He sighs as Lyla Nell practically jumps into his arms. He scoops her up and lands a kiss on her cheek as she bucks with glee.
The three of us step into the warmth of the conservatory and Noah shuts the door behind us, sealing in the heat.
The conservatory is a mostly glass structure that allows you to feel one with nature while in the comfort of its see-through walls. To my left is the dessert table laden with an entire row of my cookie platters.
After the evening ended abruptly last night, I sent all of the leftovers to the B&B with my mother rather than letting them go to waste. There was still plenty left over for the deputies to each take a platter home as well. And despite the fact we were cut short, we still managed to raise a little money.
The conservatory holds a festive atmosphere, and the scent of cinnamon and nutmeg permeates the air. Both Lily and Suze volunteered to come here tonight to help keep the royal icing flowing, and the piping bags from exploding—plus, my mother did promise to pay them with wine.
“A Holly Jolly Christmas” plays its cheery tune over the speakers, the crystal chandeliers above light up the room with a vanilla illumination, and threaded throughout them are the four ghosts who haunt my mother’s happy hotel. There’s Greer Giles, a pretty brunette about my age who died a couple of years ago, her sandy-haired plus-one, Winslow Decker, a two-hundred-year-old pig farmer, and the little girl they adopted, Lea.
