Cookie exchange executio.., p.8
Cookie Exchange Execution, page 8
Mom enters the room again, twirling Lyla Nell from one person to the next, showing her off as if she were the most precious jewel in her crown. Both Wiley and Roux enter as well and they make a beeline for my mother.
My guess is I have less than five minutes left with my suspect.
“What a horrible thing that happened last night,” I say as I try my best to block my mother out of view. “Did you know the victim?”
“Victim?” she balks before rolling her eyes. “Karen North never played the part of the victim in life, I can’t imagine she’d approve of anyone referring to her that way. But at the end of the day, she was one.” Her lips purse as she lands a spatula full of frosting into the narrow opening of the piping bag in her hand. “I guess you could say it was a little bit of karma coming to get her in the end.”
“Karma?” My ears pique at the word. “As in she did something to deserve it?” I shy away from pointing out she was killed in cold blood.
“Lottie, she was a horrible woman.” She slaps the icing into the funnel before rolling another piping bag out of parchment paper. “She wasn’t exactly known for her bedside manners.”
“How did you know Dr. North? Was your son a patient?”
Her lips part as she looks at me with a worried glance. And if I’m not mistaken, I think I see horror written on her face.
“Yes,” she pants out the word as she stares down at the parchment in her hand. “He was. Anyway, that was a long time ago, and well, Dr. North is dead now.”
“Virginia, did you see anything last night that might help the sheriff’s department figure out who may have done this to her?”
She tips her head to the side a moment. “Actually, I did see something.” She gives a brief glance around the room. “Her ex-husband was having a terse word with her.”
“Her ex-husband was there? I didn’t know she had an ex.”
Virginia’s lips turn down at the tips as she considers this. “Well, maybe they were still hitched? I thought I heard they were on the rocks and he wanted out. I just assumed”—she shakes her head—“nevertheless, he’s a deputy. Cole North. I saw him dragging her by the elbow toward the kitchen—where they found her. Anyway, he looked very upset with her. And she didn’t look all that pleased with him either. That’s partly why I assumed they were exes. You know he left his first wife for her.”
“Did he?”
“The first wife caught them going at it. Can you imagine? A deputy and a doctor. You would think they would know better than that. And to think she thought she was so high and mighty.” Her jaw tenses as she stares off at an ornament dangling from an evergreen bough straight ahead. “She took so much away from me. She stole what was sacred. She was horrible. She thought I didn’t have any class.”
“She said that to you?”
“Not in so many words.” She swallows hard. “But I knew that’s what she was thinking.”
“Virginia!” Mom trills from behind as she swoops in with a fresh-faced Lyla Nell. “There you are. Roux and Wiley are right over there. And Roux has been asking about you.” She wiggles her shoulders seductively.
“He’s here?” A panicked look crosses her face. “Oh, I don’t feel good. I’m sorry, Miranda, but I need to go.” She bolts past us, and my mother chokes as she watches her old friend dart for the door.
“So much for a high school reunion. Oh well.” She takes the wine from me and winks. “I guess that means I’ll have both of those gentlemen to myself for the evening. Come, come,” she sings to Lyla Nell as she whisks her in their direction.
Noah and Everett appear in her wake, both looking rather displeased.
“What did you glean?” Noah sighs.
“Nothing really. I mean, she said she had a kid late in life, and he’s Evie’s age. And that’s how she knew Dr. North. Who by the way, she thought was a horrible person. Oh, and she said she saw Cole drag Karen toward the kitchen by the arm. She said they looked angry.”
“Cole did that?” Noah rocks back on his heels before pulling out his phone and jotting down a few notes. “I guess I’ll have to talk to him.”
“I’ll go with you,” I say. “But we probably won’t want to bring up the fact that Virginia said she saw them. She actually thought they were divorced.” I shrug up at Everett. “Anyway, I want to be there to see his reaction. You can really tell a lot about a person judging by how they react to hearing jarring news like that. I’m guessing he won’t take too kindly to being accused of strong-arming his wife just moments before she died.”
“No, he won’t,” Everett says. “And if he’s the killer, he’ll frown upon the fact he’s being confronted. Let Noah do his job, Lemon. It’s Christmas, remember? We want peace on earth and in our little corner of Honey Hollow,” he says, wrapping his arms around my waist just as the chandeliers give a mean flicker and a series of gasps and screams echo throughout the room.
A ghostly growl emits from above and I spot Greer, Winslow, Lea, and Thirteen glowing like jack-o’-lanterns as they swoop my way.
“Lottie,” Greer hisses. “We weren’t responsible for that little poltergeist-inspired party favor. Who is that specter crashing our gingerbread mixer?”
“The ghost of Christmas past,” I say just as an entity in a red Santa suit leaves through the door. “There he goes,” I pant as I bolt in his direction. “I’ve got to get to him.”
Little Lea zips by me with that machete in her hand. “Not if I get to him first.”
“Do your thing, Lea,” I shout as I weave my way through the crowd. “Don’t let him get away!”
Thirteen jets after them, as do Greer and Winslow.
Carlotta and Charlie pop up on either side of me.
Charlie shakes her head. “You’ve just got trouble coming at you in both this life and the next.”
“Are you talking to me or Carlotta?” I snip as we enter into the main hall of the B&B. There’s not a living soul in this area of the bed and breakfast, but there are plenty of dead ones.
A ghostly bellow of a laugh comes from the left.
“He’s down by the library,” I say just as Noah and Everett jog out of the conservatory.
“Lottie,” Noah calls out as he tries to catch up to us.
“Lemon,” Everett shouts.
Carlotta clucks her tongue. “If one of you would bother calling out for me, I might just stick a leg out and trip her for ya.”
“Don’t you dare.” I hold a finger back at the two of them, my body still pushing through the darkness as the hall grows increasingly dimmer.
The echoing sound of laughter only increases as that jolly old apparition appears about twenty feet ahead of us, and yet Charlie, Carlotta, and I all stop cold in our tracks, leaving Noah and Everett to pass us up.
“What’s is it, Lemon?” Everett asks, looking in the general direction our eyes are feasted in.
“He’s here,” I say, taking up both Noah’s hand and Everett’s. For some reason, I act as a conduit, and if someone is holding my flesh, they, too, can hear the dead.
Greer and Winslow stand in front of him, both looking ready to conduct a ghostly takedown, while little Lea and Thirteen hover around the man’s shoulders.
He looks every bit the traditional Santa Claus, same portly build, same famous red suit, pointed red hat, white curls, and matching beard. But his eyes glow like fire and he looks morbidly angry.
A shimmer of pink stars glitters to my right and another all-too-familiar ghost makes her appearance.
“Jordan,” I hiss her way. “You had better hang around. Because I haven’t even started with you yet.”
“And you won’t, Lottie,” she says, gliding in close. She looks every bit herself, sans the fact she’s lit up like a glow stick. “But I’m not here to talk about me. You need to stay away from this man. Can’t you see he’s not interested in helping? He’s trying to make his way back to paradise. And in the event you haven’t noticed, he’s pretty ornery about it, too.”
“Well, that’s too bad for the both of you,” I say. “I need you both to cooperate. We have two homicides to solve, in the event you haven’t noticed.”
“Three,” Everett corrects because I forgot to add Ronald Herman to the mix.
Jordan belts out a laugh. “Just try to pin me down, Lottie Lemon. You couldn’t keep up with me while I was living. And I’m ten times more slippery as a ghost.” She up and disappears in a vat of pink stars so bright, that Carlotta, Charlie, and I are all forced to look away.
“Don’t you get any ideas, Santa,” I shout above the Christmas carols bleeding from the conservatory. “You get over here and tell me what you know about Karen North. The only way to fast track you back to paradise is if we track down her killer.”
The jolly old elf belts out a hearty ho, ho, ho and the halls, the walls, this entire haunted B&B shakes and rattles as if it were about to be lifted right off its foundation. The flesh melts right off of him as he morphs into a skeleton and begins to move his way forward.
“He’s coming this way,” I moan.
“Wow, is he scary,” Charlie pants while backing away.
“I don’t know about that,” Carlotta says, edging her chin out as if she might be interested. “I’ve always had a hankerin’ for a lean and mean man in uniform.”
The ghost stomps his way toward us, and with each step he takes, this old building quakes and rattles.
“Greer? Winslow?” I call out. “Can’t you do something about this menace?”
Greer and Winslow fly in his direction and do their best to reason with him, but he pushes them both back with a violent thrust and sends them flying right through the walls and it takes a moment before they reappear.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Everett says.
“I’ve got a gun,” Noah says it loud as if he were trying to frighten the celestial being.
Everett shakes his head. “I don’t need a gun. There’s no way I’m letting him hurt you, Lemon.”
“What am I?” Carlotta bleats. “Chopped candy cane?”
“More or less,” Charlie says. “You should have chosen chocolate. Candy canes taste like toothpaste.”
“See there, Lot? Even Cha Cha agrees with me about your latest not greatest poison pie.”
“Ooh,” I squeal. “Chocolate custard would be so much better in my Charlotte Royale. Thanks for the hot tip, Charlie.”
“Anytime,” she says.
A horrific moan comes from the menace as he swoops in close and attaches a bony hand to Noah’s dress shirt, then Everett’s as well.
“Lottie?” Noah looks down at his shirt as the fabric contorts.
“I see it, too,” Everett says. “He’s grabbing ahold of us, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” I pant as my anger begins to boil. “Don’t you dare touch them,” I growl at the paranormal plague among us and do my best to push him away, but my arms fall right through him.
Maniacal laughter emits from the surly specter, and horror above horrors, he lifts both Noah and Everett right off the ground.
“No,” I call out as he lifts them two, three, six, feet off the ground and takes them straight to the ceiling, a good sixteen feet above.
Noah’s arms and legs are moving about as if he were swimming, and Everett has his arms out as if he were ready to fly.
Greer and Winslow bolt up and do their best to free them, but that skeletal version of Santa has a death grip on them. Here’s hoping death isn’t on order tonight, or I might just have to sneak over to the other side and kill a ghost myself—even if it is redundant.
“What do you want?” I call out in a panic, terrified over what might happen should he let go.
“I want to go back,” he roars.
“I’ll send you back!” Little Lea bellows with the best of them as she takes that machete and slices off his head with it.
That glowing skull of his tumbles our way and Carlotta grabs both Charlie and me in an effort to use us both as human shields. But that skull crashes right through us with a whoosh and we watch in horror as Noah and Everett fall from the ceiling and land hard on the floor with a marked thud.
“Oh my goodness,” I shout as I fall to the floor between them. “Can you hear me? Can you move? Please don’t be dead.”
But neither of them moves, and suddenly there’s one dead Santa who isn’t in the least dead enough for me.
Noah
Head hurts.
Body broken.
New fear of heights acquired.
Last night, after the fall that could have easily proved to be fatal, Lottie threatened to call an ambulance and take both Everett and me to the emergency room. But once I moaned my way back to life, I told her not to do it on my account. And as fate would have it, she didn’t need to do it on Everett’s account either. After a minute of being passed out cold, Everett stood up and dusted himself off as if he had merely tripped and decided to take an impromptu nap.
But some good managed to come out of it. Lottie insisted I spend the night in the nursery where there’s a spare bed for me, and she promised to check in on me. And, true to her word, she checked up on me every hour on the hour.
I may have convinced her to kiss a few booboos.
Then this morning she made me breakfast in bed—eggs, bacon, pancakes, fresh-squeezed orange juice, and coffee. She did the same for Everett.
Of course, I let her know I’d happily break a bone once a day to continue the royal treatment—and I let her know I might drum up a few booboos in far more creative areas. And that’s precisely when Everett let me know he’d give me a few extra booboos that nobody would want to get near.
And after Everett finished his physical threats, I hightailed it to work. As soon as I showed up, I received a text from my father, letting me know he’s manning the fort down at Leeds Automotive while Dale Hunt, the owner, is busy picking up a Christmas tree.
Ivy got wind of it, and we both jumped into my truck and drove over to Leeds in no time. There’s a break in the snowstorm that was hitting hard this morning. The white stuff is piled high on the ground, and there’s an arctic chill in the air.
Ivy shakes her head as she examines me in detail as we get out of my truck and head toward the auto shop that’s quickly becoming the bane of my existence.
“So explain to me again why the left side of your face is black and blue—not to mention the fact you’re walking around like an old man? Did Essex do that to you? And don’t give me that I fell routine again.” She stops cold and gasps my way. “Don’t tell me Lottie did this. Noah, battered husband syndrome is a very real thing.”
“What? No. Lottie would never cause me any harm.”
Ivy cinches her coat around her waist. “I don’t know how you can say that with a straight face. She’s been emotionally abusing you for years.”
“Again, not true. Lottie is the love of my life, my wife, the mother of my child.”
“Exactly why you’ve given her license to take a baseball bat to your body. Noah, the woman treats you like dirt. If she was standing in front of you, she’d probably walk right on by rather than say hello.”
“Once again, not true.”
The most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen in my life walks on by and my mouth falls open.
“Lottie?” I call out and both she and the woman by her side turn this way. “Carlotta?”
Ivy sniffs. “And my point has been proven.”
“Noah?” Lottie’s face brightens as she darts this way and gives me a quick embrace. She’s bundled in a red coat and her cheeks are rosy, her lips ruby red. Lottie Lemon is stunning. There is simply no other word. “What are you doing here?” Her expression morphs from jubilant to that of deep concern.
“My dad is in there.” I frown over at the brown brick building with the entire left wall opened up as an army of men work on the cars splayed out. “He said Dale is off picking out a Christmas tree, so Ivy and I thought we’d pop in and see what we could find.”
Carlotta bucks as she balks at the two of us, “You think you’re just going to waltz in there and do who knows what without an excuse?”
“Yes,” Ivy flatlines. “We’re wasting time, Noah. For all we know, he could be back in ten minutes.”
Carlotta makes a face at her. “Don’t worry, Bun Head. I’ve got ya covered.” She pulls a stack of flyers from the inside of her coat. “I’m working for the Good Giving Foundation now. It’s my first day on the job, and it’s up to me to get these promotional posters to all of our partners.”
“Well, congratulations,” I tell her. “It looks as if we’ve got a reason to pry.” I help Carlotta through the snow as we pass the open maw of the garage that takes up the breadth of the building. There’s a sign on the right side that reads classic car restoration, and yet the space beneath sits empty at the moment.
The four of us make our way into the main office, only to find my father behind the counter ready to greet us. There’s a stuffed snowman next to the register, and paper snowflakes hang from the ceiling. A string of red garland is strung from one end of the counter to the next, and a couple of stockings hang precariously by thumbtacks as they hang on for dear life against the far wall. It’s nice to see such a testosterone-laden establishment brimming with holiday spirit.
“Hey, hey, the gang’s all here.” He gives a dimpled grin as he motions for us to join him over on the working end of the room. “Computer’s right there. Two filing cabinets are in the corner. The mechanics don’t give a rip what’s happening in this room, and I’ve already spun the security cameras to face the walls. You’re welcome.”
“Something tells me Ronald Herman gave a rip,” Lottie says as she heads for the computer.
“Back off, Lottie,” Ivy says as she jockeys for the position in front of the monitor. “This is an ongoing investigation that’s best left to professionals. Noah, you secure the filing cabinets. Lottie, why don’t you see if Wiley would like some coffee?”
Lottie scoffs. “Noah, are you going to let her talk to me that way?”
“I’m sorry, Lot,” I say, tearing open the filing cabinets and rummaging through them at lightning speeds, trying to glean whatever information I can.
