Cookie exchange executio.., p.7
Cookie Exchange Execution, page 7
Lea’s formal name is Azalea, but she doesn’t stand for anyone to use it lest she uses the machete she keeps handy to chop their heads off. Lea’s whole family was slaughtered right here over the grounds of the B&B, which explains her need to haunt this exact locale. I’m pretty sure she’s looking to exact revenge, but unfortunately for her, she’s at least a century too late. She has her long stringy dark hair combed over her face, and it’s hard to tell if she’s coming or going.
And lastly, their black cat, Thirteen, is floating around the ceiling along with them. They like to keep their hauntings a family affair.
Out on the floor there are tables set up every few feet, each with a gingerbread house sitting over it while couples congregate around them, sipping wine and doing their best to make their scrumptious cookie homes look festive.
There’s a tall flocked tree in the corner, decorated with white twinkle lights and festooned with red ornaments and bows. And a lively crowd at least a hundred thick seems to be having a jolly good time.
I spot both my mother and Wiley dressed to the nines as they speak with their guests. And not too far off from them I spot my sisters, Charlie, Lainey, and Meg, chatting with one another. But there doesn’t seem to be a sign of the woman I came to speak with.
“Who’s up on the roster for the night?” Noah asks. “And how can I get in on this action?”
I make a face at him. “Her name is Virginia Angelo. Sam and her friend Tannen, the midriff-baring assistant of Dr. North’s, came by the bakery, and Tannen said she heard secondhand that Virginia and Karen had brought up a secret the night she was killed.”
Noah frowns. “Who did she hear that from?”
“She didn’t say. She got a text from Cole and had to take off.”
“Okay, so we’ll talk to Virginia. But if it’s a secret, I doubt she’ll want to spill the beans.”
“Maybe not to us, but Virginia and my mother are good friends. And what are you doing here so early? I thought I at least had an hour on you.”
He chuckles as Lyla Nell runs her fingers through the scuff on his cheeks. “My father got a job over at Leeds Automotive. Apparently, today was his first day. He went down, and Dale Hunt put him straight to work. I wanted to see what he gleaned, but no sooner did I get to the door than I spotted your minivan circling to the back, so I thought I’d help you in.”
“A job with Dale? I’m impressed. I guess you have another inroad with the case. I hope he does all the dirty work for you. Neither Lyla Nell nor I want you involved with anything that might be remotely dangerous.”
“That’s funny, Lyla Nell and I were just having that same conversation about you last night.” His expression grows serious. “You do realize what I do for a living.”
“You’re hilarious. Of course, I do. I hope you realize what I do. I’m a baker. And this little gingerbread gathering of the masses that my mother is hosting is something that I told her I’d oversee. It just happens to be a coincidence that Virginia had volunteered for the effort. Just like it will be a coincidence if I bump into her and we begin to discuss Dr. North.”
“All right, Ms. Coincidence. You know what wasn’t a coincidence? You”—he takes a step in close as Lyla Nell coos between us—“me.” His lips swing in dangerously close to mine as his cologne permeates my senses. “And this little moppet we get to call our own forever. We were meant to be, Lottie Lemon. Nell was right. We are soul mates. And maybe Everett factors into your equation somehow, but you are the only one for m—”
“Noah Fox.” Cormack Featherby pops up and grabs him by the hand.
Lyla Nell hisses at the blonde bombshell wearing a gold shimmering gown, and I’m tempted to hiss right along with her. Instead, I take Lyla Nell into my arms lest Cormack decides to make Noah disappear.
“You, mister”—Cormack gives Noah a stern look as she yanks him close to her—“are here with me.” She narrows her celadon green eyes over mine. “I’m sorry, Luanna, but you’re married to Essex. He might stand for your constant flirting with Noah, but I won’t hear of it. Noah and I are building a family, and I expect you to show us the respect we deserve.” Her lips swim as she looks at Lyla Nell with disgust. “Please keep the drooling darling to yourself. This is a forty thousand dollar Veragamo, and I don’t think you could afford the dry cleaning bill it would entail to clean it properly.”
My mouth opens to offer up a rebuttal just as Charlie strides up.
“Cormack.” Charlie nods. “You look stunning per usual.” Charlie and Cormack are friends. In fact, once Charlie hit Honey Hollow, it seemed she was determined to make friends with all of my nemeses. Yes, plural. She looks my way. “Lottie,” she snips. “That woman is single-handedly out to ruin my life.” She points toward the entry, directly to the very same woman who seems out to ruin my life, Carlotta.
Carlotta gives a two-fingered wave as she gets back to working on a gingerbread house with Mayor Nash, and there’s an entire bottle of wine sitting between them.
“Booze and cookies?” Noah marvels. “She may never leave the B&B.”
“I’m not that lucky,” I say as I look back at Charlie. “Let me guess, you saw a sharp decline in business as soon as she opened up her hotdog slash frosted cookie stand? Not even the hashtag haunted bakery could save me.”
Charlie nods. “She was giving those hot dogs away at fifty cents a pop. And throwing in the frosted cookies for free.”
Carlotta appears next to me as if she were an apparition, and Lyla Nell gives a little whimper before trying to climb me like a pole.
“Wassamatter, Little Yippy.” Carlotta makes a face and holds her hands up in the air as if they were claws. “Scared of a little old woman?”
Lyla Nell shouts something that sounds like a reprimand—or more to the point, as if she were telling her off.
“Oh yeah?” Carlotta growls at her. “Is that a threat?”
Lyla Nell shouts at her again and Carlotta’s jaw goes slack.
“Well, Foxy? Are you just going to sit there and let her talk to me like that? Or are you gonna teach her a lesson?”
Noah’s chest expands. “Carlotta, there’s no need for you to argue with a nine-month-old child.”
“Or steal from your two grown children,” Charlie snips. “Noah, I bet she doesn’t have a license to sell food on the streets. I demand you arrest her.”
“Ooh.” I look his way. “And keep her locked up until after the holidays. I’ve got some sales to make up for.”
Carlotta coughs and sputters. “Foxy, you wouldn’t arrest Lyla Nell’s favorite Gran-Gran, would you? I’m just trying to make a dollar holler so I can get those pricey dolls she’s demanding I buy her. And those fancy dresses she’s had her eyes on, and some delectable kibble for the family of raccoons I’ve been feeding in the back of the house.”
I choke on the thought. “You’re the reason we’re having trash can wars with an entire herd of those nighttime bandits?”
Charlie nods. “I can guarantee that’s not the first family of critters she’s played sous-chef for. Carlotta would feed a squirrel before she’d feed me when I was growing up.”
“It’s a miracle you grew up at all,” I tell her.
Cormack giggles to herself. “Oh, Sharlotta, you’re a hoot and a half. If you really want to earn a little spending cash, you can come work for me at the Good Giving Foundation.”
“She’ll take it,” both Charlie and I shout in unison—for different reasons, I’m guessing. And it’s nice to see that my name isn’t the only one Cormack refuses to commit to memory.
Carlotta opens her mouth to say something just as my mother cuts into our circle.
“Hand me this adorable little marshmallow,” she sings as she plucks Lyla Nell and the diaper bag from me. “I’ll take care of her for you, dear.” She kisses me quickly on the cheek. “Now, all of you grab some wine and get to decorating your delicious homes!”
Cormack wraps her arms around Noah as if he were a life raft. “You heard the woman. It’s time to decorate our delicious homes. But first, we need to head to the cookie bar. But for the love of all things good, no green cookies this time.” She covers her mouth with her hand as she whisks Noah off in that direction.
Charlie offers me a forlorn smile. “I’m so sorry, Lottie. I can only imagine how hard it is to see the man you love having a baby with another woman.”
“Imagine how Sexy felt.” Carlotta ticks her head to the side.
“We didn’t know who Lyla Nell’s biological father was until well after she was born,” I tell her.
“Well, imagine how he feels now,” she crows.
“Carlotta”—I take a moment to frown over at her—“Everett loves Lyla Nell as if she were his own. And by the way, I could kiss you on the lips for opening that hot dog, cookie catastrophe today.”
Carlotta elbows Charlie. “What’s she smokin’, Cha Cha?”
“I’m not smoking anything,” I say. “If you weren’t so vindictive to your own daughters, then you wouldn’t be working for Cormack’s Good Giving Foundation. I’m going to use you to do a little digging.”
She grunts, “I charge a finder’s fee for any evidence you lay claim to.”
“Do it and I’ll start charging rent.”
She scowls over at me because she knows she’s just been bested.
“Back to Cormack,” I whisper as I lean toward Charlie. “Alex is the one who knocked her up.”
“What?” My sister looks clearly confused. “Oh geez. Is that why he’s been catering to her every night?”
“Yuppers,” Carlotta says. “Those Foxy men really know how to cater to a woman’s wants and desires—and land a cookie in the oven while they’re at it. They bring a whole new meaning to the word delivery.”
Everett steps between them and his lips flicker as he takes me in. “Baxter men know how to deliver, too.”
“And you deliver perfect timing,” I say, pulling him in and landing a kiss on his lips. He’s still wearing his suit from the courthouse. His cologne still holds its thick and expensive scent, and about ten different women are fanning themselves as they take in all of his Baxter glory.
Both Charlie and Carlotta scatter and I lead Everett to a table with an untouched gingerbread house, that just so happens to be right next to Noah and Cormack.
“Deck the Halls” begins to play over the speakers, and the entire room reaches an elevated jolly state.
“Just one moment,” Everett says as he heads over to the table next to where Suze and Lily are doling out the piping bags, and he comes this way with not only an arm full of piping bags, but with a whole other gingerbread house. “I thought we could conjoin the two—sort of the way we conjoined our properties to build our dream home.”
“I love that.” I bite down on a smile as I land another kiss to his lips. “You really think of everything.” A thought hits me. “Hey, we should decorate the outside of the new house. Maybe Bear will get the hint and kick into high gear?” I suck in a quick breath. “And maybe when we buy a tree for our place, we can put one into the new house as well. I haven’t been to the new house in weeks. Every time I try to sneak a peek, he tells me there’s drywall dust all over the place, or that they’re in the middle of a big job. Everett, I hate to say it, but I think he’s stalling. I’m half-afraid he’s going to need another five years to build the house. We’re not paying him by the hour, are we?”
A dark laugh strums from him. “No. I promise you we’re not.” His eyes twinkle as he takes me in. “Don’t worry about Bear. The only houses we need to worry about are these.” He nods to the twin gingerbread houses before us.
“In that case, let the decorating begin.”
Everett and I make elaborate vanilla icing swags that drape from the eaves, and Everett decorates the windows while I fill in the frosting on the roof.
Noah comes this way with Lyla Nell in hand. “Mind if we help?”
“Not at all,” I tell him as I give Lyla Nell’s hand a tug. “I thought Glam Glam carried you away for the night.”
“She said she had to make a booze run to the kitchen.”
“Ah, running out of wine?” I ask.
“No,” he says. “She needed a nip from a bottle. It’s been a while since she’s hosted such a large shindig—her words, not mine.”
Lyla Nell laughs and lunges toward the gingerbread house, sticking her hand flat into the thick layer of icing I just poured over the roof.
“Oh no,” I cry out as I pull up the sleeve to her little sweater. It’s pink, dotted with silver stars, and she looks sweet as sugar in it—and now she’s going to taste that way, too.
“Wait a minute,” Everett says. “I think we can work with this.” He takes her by the wrist and gently helps her stamp a handprint over the remainder of the unfinished rooftop.
“I like where you’re going with this. How about we do my house, too,” Noah says as we head to his table and repeat the effort.
“So, where’s Cormack?” I lift a brow his way.
He winces. “She said the smell of Lyla Nell was making her sick and she ran for the bathroom.”
“Well, at least you know which Cormack repellent works best,” I tell him.
Noah sighs as he looks from me to Everett. “She’s asked me to go with her to Dr. Barnette’s office.”
My mouth falls open. Dr. Barnette was the OB-GYN who delivered Lyla Nell. Both Noah and Everett were very attentive to me while I was expecting, and they both came with me to each and every appointment. In fact, they were both present while I gave birth right here in the conservatory. Noah let me lie in his lap while Everett delivered the baby—or caught her. I suppose I did the delivering.
“Think of handbags,” Everett tells him sternly. “I’m sorry, Noah. But you’re knee-deep in a murder investigation—that I happen to be knee-deep in as well.”
“He’s right,” I tell him before turning to Everett. “But guess what? Cormack just gave Carlotta a position at the Good Giving Foundation. That means I’m as good as in myself. I have a feeling this is going to wrap up quickly.” I bite down on my lip. “And yet I still have no clue who killed poor Jordan.” The lights flicker, and Noah and Everett exchange a glance.
Noah nods. “I bet dollars to donuts, that’s Jordan saying stay out of it.”
Everett looks my way. “That’s one case we might have to let grow cold.”
I practically choke on the words begging to stream from me. “Everett, someone gunned down my friend. She said there were dangerous people after her. And they’re still out there. Who knows who they could gun down next!”
“Exactly,” he says. “And I don’t want it to be you.”
“Me either,” Noah says as he helps Lyla Nell leave her fingerprints all over his gingerbread house. I don’t see why not, she’s already left them all over his heart. “I’ve taken on her homicide investigation, Lottie. As in the file is sitting on my desk as we speak. Let me do this.”
I glance toward the entry and spot my mother talking to a familiar looking redhead, and I recognize her as my mother’s buddy from high school, Virginia Angelo. They’re both filling piping bags and laying them on the table, not too far from where Lily and Suze are doing the same.
“Okay, perfect,” I say, taking Lyla Nell from Noah. “Why don’t you and Everett continue to discuss the things I should and shouldn’t do and I’ll go clean Lyla Nell up?” I thread my way through the crowd just as “Feliz Navidad” begins its happy tune and the mood in the room is elevated that much more. “Mother,” I say, trading Lyla Nell for the glass of wine in her hands. “Would you mind checking to see if she needs a quick change? I have no idea where you put that diaper bag.”
“Oh, you know I don’t mind. I live for this. Please excuse me, Virgie. If you need anything at all, I’m sure Lottie can assist you.” She gasps as she catches Lyla Nell by the arm. “Well, look at you, Miss Sticky Fingers. Straight to the kitchen sink with you.”
Lyla Nell squeals with delight as my mother hauls her out of the room.
“Virginia,” I say. “So glad to see you again. My mother mentioned you’d be helping with the event.”
“I sure am,” she says, holding up a piping bag as if she were giving a toast. Her hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail, and she’s wearing a red sweater with jeans and a short frilly apron around her waist. “I work for a bakery up in Scooter Springs. I moved there years ago, right after my son was born.” Her expression darkens a moment. “The bakery has been a godsend to me. I show up early and stay late, and I love every moment in between. I never knew there was something that I’d enjoy so much that could really help my worries go away. I often tell people baking is cheaper than therapy.”
“You got that right. What do you think keeps me in the kitchen?” We share a warm laugh, and a thought hits me. Maybe that secret is somehow loosely related to the fact she needed therapy? Although, God knows baking has helped me deal with every level of stress, from not having enough money in the bank to not knowing who the father of my child was. Speaking of which… “So how old is your son? I might know him.” I shrug. “I have a few friends up in Starry Falls and Scooter Springs.”
She laughs again. “I doubt it. He’s seventeen. I had him a little later in life. I know Miranda pumped out you girls one after another when she was in her late twenties. I should have taken a cue from her.”
“That she did. At least she pumped out my sisters. I was adopted.”
The woman inches back. “Really?” Her forehead creases as her features soften. “That’s Miranda for you, ever the do-gooder. And I don’t even have to ask. I know she made a good mother.” Her gaze falls to the floor and her expression darkens once again.
What was that about? Doesn’t she think she’s a good mother? Or perhaps she didn’t have a good mother.
“Do you still have family here in Honey Hollow?”
She shakes her head. “I did. But my mother passed away a few years back. I lived here right up until my son was born, and just a little bit after that.” She sighs as she looks to the floor once again, and I’m getting the idea that this is a tough conversation for her.
