“I ran into Daphne. She extended the invitation and insisted I come. Do you realize she tried to pass off one of your cookies as her own? Not only do I doubt she bakes, but I saw the box in her office with the Cutie Pie stamp over it.”
“Keeping it classy. She has the hots for you by the way. But you already know that because all the women have the hots for you.”
“That would be a fair summation.” Everett glares my way. “You do realize I had to have my favorite leather chair destroyed.”
“Destroyed? That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”
“What’s dramatic is finding my fiancée undressed in my chambers and in another man’s arms.”
“Who happens to be my boyfriend, so it was totally acceptable in a roundabout way. And to think you thought I told him about our visit to Fallbrook!” I hiss it out like a threat. “The last time you hinted at something, things ended spectacularly in a very bad way. Let’s not make history repeat itself.”
“Hear, hear. Do you want to know the real reason I showed up this afternoon?”
“Because you like rum cake?”
His lips twitch. “Because I have a very real feeling that this funeral is about to go sideways.”
“I’d ask how you knew, but you have met Eve’s children. I’m guessing you’re right.”
“Care to share a seat next to me?” He holds out his arm.
“You bet.” I thread my own arm through his, and we walk down the aisle of Honey Hollow Covenant Church.
* * *
The tiny little parish is brimming with bodies—all but one are alive, thankfully. The entire cast of Hollisters is in the front row, each one with a stoic expression, suspiciously dry eyes. This is nothing more than a formality to them. I’m surprised they bothered to show up at all. I bet there was some stipulation that has to do with the will. Don’t show up for the big send-off and you miss the financial boat entirely.
I spot a face I’ve been trying to track down for weeks and nudge Everett in the ribs. “Nell Sawyer is here! Once the funeral is done, I plan on trapping her in a corner and making her tell me everything she knows about our shared ability to see the dead.”
“It’s not so special today, Lemon. It looks as if we will all get to see the dead.” Everett’s brows pinch as he nods to the front where Eve seems to float in her casket as if she were an angel indeed. Mom says they’re shoving poor Eve into the incinerator asap once the service is over, and if it wasn’t for Mom pulling a few strings herself, Eve would have been a no-show at her own funeral. But Mom was emphatic that Eve would have wanted it this way, and I’m sure she would have, too.
Every bench is filled to max capacity, but Everett manages to squeeze us in a couple of seats right up front on the far right. Nobody in their right mind wants to sit in the front row at a funeral, especially not one with an open casket. There she is, Eve Hollister lying in state with her rose-colored coffin opened wide for all to see. She looks as if she’s sleeping peacefully. Her makeup is on point like never before, and whoever styled her has given her hair a modern spin by straightening that perm of hers. She’s wearing her best blue dress that I’ve seen her wear many, many times before, and she has a blue broach pinning her signature white shawl across her shoulders. She looks so very much like her everyday self, I half-expect her to sit right up and say hello to us all.
Everett leans in. “Why isn’t Noah here?”
“He likes to sneak in the back and observe, in case the killer is among us.” I’ve been to enough funerals with him now that I’m all too familiar with the morbid routine.
The music starts up, and soon enough everyone is in their seats. The pastor gets up and says his usual spiel, starting with a joke about death and taxes and ending with a blessing over Eve Hollister’s very soul.
Not one of her children gets up to say a single nice thing about her. Figures. It’s probably best they cap their bitterness for the occasion. Although, I must admit, if it’s true, Eve was surprisingly harsh with them. That would be like me spoiling Pancake with his Fancy Beast cat food and then bam, kicking him out into the cold hard streets expecting him to fend for his little kitty self. He’s liable to become a gambler, or an angry lawyer, or— I glance to Brenda Lee with her silver hair glinting in the light. It has such a high gloss sheen it almost looks fake. I’d love for my hair to look that healthy no matter what color it was.
What does Brenda Lee do for a living again? Brenda has opted to don a wild looking skirt in a rainbow of colors for the somber occasion that looks as if she ripped it off the nearest Irish Traveller. She has a set of bangles riding all the way up her elbows on both arms, and her earrings look like bona fide chandeliers. Daphne is wearing stark black from head to hose, and Helman looks as if he’s been wearing that wrinkled suit since the day I saw him last at Red Satin. No sign of his wife. Either that or she’s seated in another section entirely.
The pastor looks to the congregation and holds out his hands before offering a benevolent smile. “Would anyone like to come forward and say a few kind words about the dearly departed?”
The room goes silent. You’d think every last one of us was a corpse. I can’t help but notice that surrounding the casket there are only a few meager flower arrangements. Not one floral wreath, no sprawling bouquets. For a woman so wealthy, you’d think one of her rich besties might buy out an entire florist to festoon the altar with. It’s a shame that with a room full of people so few were actually close to her.
“I’ll do it!” a familiar voice cries from somewhere in the middle of the sanctuary, and I look to find my mother detangling herself from her perverted boyfriend, Brad Rutherford. He was into kink with one of Everett’s exes, and his wife tried to kill him but got the ex instead. It was twisted. Mom jogs up wearing her very best navy pantsuit, her blonde hair bouncing in youthful looking ringlets as she takes the mic from the pastor.
“Hello, everybody.” She presses out a pained smile. My mother has a way of always keeping her composure no matter what the situation. A grunt followed by a snort comes from the back, and I gasp before turning around. “Eve Hollister was one of my very good friends. If you don’t mind, I’d like to start at the beginning—exactly five decades ago when we first met as girls.”
A dull groaning grows louder, as does the snorting, and soon enough that oversized black bear comes bounding down the aisle. Its hind leg catches on a leaflet in a little boy’s hand, and I watch as that pastel piece of paper goes flying. Eve’s picture printed on the front floats through the air like a paper kite, and the little boy gets a pop to his bottom from his mother.
“Everett,” I hiss, my voice wobbling in fear. “It’s happening again.”
“What’s happening?” he whispers as he does his best to follow my gaze.
The bear lumbers its way right past my mother and her enthusiastic soliloquy and stops shy of Eve’s casket before letting out an earth-shattering roar.
“Oh God,” I whimper as I sink in my seat.
The bear stands on its hind legs, looking down at Eve as if it were paying her homage. And, dear God, if that bear doesn’t care more about her than her own flesh and blood. But come to think of it, she may have treated it better.
In what looks like slow motion, the bear reaches over and settles its paw on the lid to her casket, causing her coffin to tremble slightly. Thankfully, my mother is regaling the crowd with a cute little ditty about stealing Eve’s first boyfriend and no one seemed the wiser. The big hairy beast circles around to the back of the casket and bumps its snout against the lid.
“Holy mother of all things good and evil,” I hiss as I make a run for the altar, bypassing my mother and stationing myself behind the casket just as the bear slams the darn thing shut. My hand thankfully is sealed to the lid, making the unforgivable foible look like my own misgiving. Just great.
“Lottie!” my mother screeches.
“And on that note.” I look to the shocked faces in the crowd. “We would like to co
nclude the service.”
Mom shakes her head in protest as a fountain of words struggle to make their way up her throat. “But I didn’t get to the good part. Eve found us in the back of his father’s Impala!”
I try my hardest not to roll my eyes. “Please join us for pastries and refreshments next door.” My voice booms clear to the back where I see Noah’s eyes wide as eggs as he takes me in.
The bear sniffs my neck, my back, my behind, and I do my best to kick him away, but it’s like hitting a solid brick wall.
I spot Nell Sawyer taking off and make a beeline after her.
That horrible beast will probably end up flipping poor Eve right out of her casket, and with Eve’s luck, there will be an entire room full of people willing to watch the show.
Chapter 28
The cavernous hall attached to the church is brimming with bodies, all of them bubbling with laughter, refreshment in hand. Once I exited the church I zigged left when I should have zagged right. Apparently, I was wrong about Becca and Nell hightailing it out of here. Instead, they made a trip to the ladies’ room, and that’s exactly where I corner the sweet old woman I’ve been dying to shake down since Christmas Eve.
Becca finishes up drying her hands and smiles my way. “That was quite the eulogy your mother gave. And quite a dramatic end to the funeral itself once you sealed the casket shut. Eve would have liked that”—her brows furrow—“I think.”
“Thank you.” I glance back at the stalls with their doors still firmly sealed shut. “I’ll wait for Nell. Why don’t you go out there and make yourself a dessert plate?” I lean in and whisper, “I brought some of those rum birthday cake cookies I’ll be making for Nell’s big day. I can’t wait to see what you think of them.”
“Ooh.” Becca’s head cocks to the side. She has Keelie’s gorgeous features, but her hair is a rich shade of amber. The look is new, and she wears it well. “I think I’ll take you up on that.”
A toilet flushes, and less than ten seconds later Nell stalks out, leaning on her cane every other step. Nell only brings the cane along for prolonged outings. And a funeral definitely counts as a prolonged outing.
“I thought she’d never leave.” She washes her hands quickly before leading us to the sitting area just before the exit and we fall onto a small floral sofa together. Mostly I’ve seen nursing mothers occupying the space, but at the moment it’s just the two of us, and my entire body shakes with curiosity and perhaps a touch of fear of what might happen next.
“What is it, Nell? I can’t take this much longer. Am I cursed? Am I defective? Am I some kind of a witch? How in the heck do we have the same malady?” A thought comes to me, and I gasp as Noah runs through my mind. “Oh dear God, please tell me it’s not contagious!”
A quick laugh chortles through her. Nell’s silver hair lies neatly over her forehead. It’s short all around and still full and thick as ever. Her blue eyes sparkle up at me, and I can feel the love radiating off of her like warm ocean waves covering me from head to toe.
“Darling”—she takes up my hands—“I’m not at liberty to tell you everything.” She nods up at me as if pleading with me to understand—which for the record I don’t. I don’t understand one darn thing about this. “But I will tell you what I do know about the gift.”
Huh. What else would there be to tell? But I don’t go there. There’s no way I’m making her backtrack. I’ve waited a lifetime to hear what comes next, and I’m not wasting a moment to breathe, let alone ask an asinine question.
“First, you are not a witch.”
“Oh thank God. I don’t think I could handle that. I’m a good Christian girl who has no intentions on sidestepping a holy rule or two.” Noah’s naked body comes to mind, and I blink it right back out, for now. Hey—you’ve got to pick and choose your battles. Everett’s naked body comes to mind, and a breath hitches in my throat before I blink back to life. “I’m no psychic either, am I?”
She takes a deep breath, her entire body rising six inches. “Not exactly. What you are is supersensual.”
“Supersensual?” I flatline. “No offense, but that sounds a bit porny. My boyfriend will love it, though. Although he doesn’t quite know about my…supersensual nature—at least not in that way.” Oh good Lord! Why don’t I just cop to the fact that I’ve been fornicating almost nightly, and might I add creatively with the good detective. And that I may or may not have spent the night with the judge. Gah! A thought just occurs to me. I slept with two men in a twenty-four hour period! I’m proving to be quite the supersensual little trollop these days.
“It’s a type”—she grimaces—“and you and I both certainly fall into that category.”
“How is it possible? What does it mean? Why are we seeing these long-departed creatures? Did you see that bear in there? Not only can I feel, see, and hear him, but he shut Eve Hollister’s casket!”
She trembles with a laugh. “Oh goodness, that beast must have really loved her.” She leans in, her eyes glint silver in the light. “Lottie, you and I are transmundane. It means we have the ability to reach into a world beyond the visible. Our supersensual powers are our sixth sense.”
“Sixth sense,” I parrot after her, just trying to take it all in. “But why? Why do we see them? And what does it mean that they’re able to interfere with our world?”
“They need us, Lottie. They come looking for justice for those they love.”
“Huh. They do help me when I’m about to catch the killer.” I almost feel justified impeding myself into Noah’s investigations. Maybe they are my investigations after all? “But why just one pet? I mean, maybe that’s all they had, but assuming they had more than one, why does only one come back at such a dark hour in their previous owner’s life?”
Her forehead breaks out into a series of wrinkles upon wrinkles. “It’s something I’ve wondered, too. All I can assume is it’s the one they felt the most affinity for—a special affinity.”
“Makes sense.” Speaking of having a special affinity. “I still have the dog you met Christmas Eve, Dutch, and I don’t mind one bit. Pancake loves him, even though he’s not entirely sure what it is.” Nell actually gifted Pancake to me over a year ago. She has his brother, Waffles. “But the bear can’t stay. The bear is moving things. We cannot let that happen. They’re getting stronger. We can’t let them interfere in this world.”
“Lottie”—her eyes enlarge as she pulls my hands toward her—“their ability to interfere is in direct relation to your powers. It means you have transcended the norm and you are entering unchartered territory.”
“Did you say norm?” I cock my head, squinting at her. “Because I’m pretty sure this is all unchartered territory. Unless, oh my word, unless there are more of us out there!”
Nell’s fingers touch her lips and she shudders, although the action is unreadable to me at the moment.
“Nell Sawyer. Are you hiding something deeper from me? How many of us are there? And do you meet on the regular? I swear, if you use the word coven, I am out of here.”
“Oh heavens no, we’ve never referred to ourselves as a—”
“Ah-ha! I caught you!”
The door glides open, and Becca strides over. “Nell Sawyer, would you please stop chewing this poor girl’s ear off?” She plucks Nell off the sofa and ushers her right out the door with an eye roll. But I’m on them, striding right by Nell’s side as Becca hurries them toward the exit.
“There is one more thing, Lottie.” Nell growls in frustration at Becca, but her daughter is relentless. “There is one thing you must never do!” she shouts as Becca leads her into the snowy evening and straight for her sedan.
“What is it?” I pant as the snow bites my cheeks.
Becca helps Nell into the car and buckles her in before saying goodnight and getting to the other side.
“What is it, Nell?” I whisper, leaning in.
“Lottie, please”—Becca motions for me to take a step back—“she’s liable to catch
her death out here.”
Nell nods in agreement, her hand lifting as if to ease me. “My birthday is in a few days. Why don’t you join us for dinner?”
“I would love to. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I wink over at Becca before sealing the door shut. Nell has no idea what a huge party Becca is throwing for her.
I watch as they drive away.
And I meant what I said. I will be there. And she will tell me what I must never do.
Chapter 29
Inside, Carlson Hall is bustling as if this arm of the church had suddenly transformed itself into a frat house. There’s a sea of bodies, Daphne Hollister is laughing it up with someone I recognize vaguely, and for the life of me, I can’t place the mystery woman.
“Who are we looking at?” a dark, vexingly sexy voice smolders from behind, and I have heard the voice penetrating me from just about every position.
“Daphne Hollister,” I say, warming my back to Noah’s rock solid chest. “Who’s the woman she’s with?”
“If I tell you, will you turn around and kiss me?”
I purr on cue, something Noah seems able to invoke in me whenever he feels like it. “If you throw in her last name, you’ll get more than that.”
“Valerie Vernon, Eve Hollister’s live-in maid.”
“Oh, that’s right,” I say, snapping my fingers and spinning on my heel until I’m face-to-god-like face with Noah Corbin Handcuff-Me-to-Your-Bed-Anytime-You-Please Fox. “Rumor has it, my boyfriend is working late tonight. You look like you’re good for a quickie. If this wasn’t a funeral, I’d pull you into a dark corridor.”
His chest rumbles with approval as his arms swivel around my waist. “Honey, this funeral is livelier than my senior prom.”
“Ooh, I very much like the idea of reenacting senior prom with you.”
“My back seat or yours?”
Murder in the Mix (Books 4-6) Page 23
