Waffles at the Wake

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Waffles at the Wake Page 21

by Addison Moore


  “There, there,” Carlotta says. “You just yell at my Lottie Dottie all you like. That’s what she’s here for. That’s what she signed up for when she agreed to be a parent to you. And that’s why your daddy hired her to be his wife.”

  Noah snickers. “He did hire you, Lot. You can’t argue with that.”

  It might be a little true, considering the fact I married Everett just to help save his inheritance, but I’m not digging in that direction tonight.

  “Why don’t you get your PJ’s on, wash your face, and we’ll meet up in the kitchen for a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies?”

  A smile swims on her lips as she gives a weak nod. “That’s the best part about having a mom who’s a baker. You’re always right there encouraging me to eat my feelings.”

  We share a warm laugh as we leave her to get ready for bed. No sooner do I close the door to her room than Everett’s chest expands twice its width.

  “I’m going to kill him.”

  Noah nods. “I’ll help you hide the body.”

  “Around and around it goes.” Carlotta takes a breath. “Where this killing machine will stop, nobody knows. I’d better get ready for bed myself. I’ve got a unicorn costume to put on.”

  “So Harry’s coming over?” I ask.

  She inches back with her mouth wide open. “How did you know?”

  “I wish I could say it was a wild guess on my part, but you had me at unicorn costume.”

  “I should’ve figured. You and I think exactly alike. Say—you don’t have a rhinestone leash I could borrow, do ya?”

  “No.” It comes out deadpan.

  “Fine.” She looks to Noah. “Now that you’re down for the count, can I borrow your handcuffs?”

  Noah reaches into his pocket and tosses a pair her way. “You want the key?”

  “What fun would that be?”

  “Try not to bray all night,” I say. “Evie needs her rest if she’s going to talk to Dash tomorrow.”

  Noah inches back. “Why would she ever speak with that girl again?”

  “Because girls don’t let boys ruin their relationships. And who knows? It might all be a misunderstanding. Stranger things have happened.”

  Everett nods. “Like a respected judge digging a body out of his old stepbrother’s backyard and dumping it in the middle of town square.”

  Noah hikes his brows. “Now there’s a solid plan. Did you know there aren’t any security cameras in that direction?”

  “I did know that,” Everett responds, and suddenly I’m a little worried about how far and wide the good judge’s knowledge base stretches. “In fact, I should probably get a move on.”

  “No, don’t go.” I pull him in. “Evie needs us both right now.”

  He glances back at her door. “Okay. But come hell or high water, it’s going down tomorrow night. I want this nightmare behind us. And from now on, my vote vetoes his.” He shoots Noah a sharp look. “You’ve always needed a big brother who could knock some sense into you. I bet if you didn’t goof things up all those years ago between us, I could have saved you from half of the junk you’ve landed yourself in.”

  “I wish I wouldn’t have goofed things up.” Noah looks amused. “And you would have probably helped me avoid the mess I got myself into with Lottie—the two of us would be married by now.”

  A rumble of a laugh strums through Everett’s chest. “On second thought, things worked out exactly how they should have.” His lids hood my way, and a dangerous smile flickers on his lips as if to suggest he was about to prove it to me. And I have no doubt he is.

  Something tells me this is going to be one very long night.

  Last night, after baking cookies with Evie, both Everett and I helped get Noah back across the street, and medicated him into oblivion.

  Of course, Everett had to prove his point in the most delicious manner regarding how fate worked everything out in our favor, so I had zilch sleep last night.

  I’ll admit, I was a little disappointed when Everett actually had to go to work this morning. I stayed home long enough to comfort Evie and make her a big breakfast of waffles and all the fixings. I told her she should invite Dash over later to talk things through and suggested they take a walk around the neighborhood with Toby. He’s not a digger like the golden retriever down the street, so the whole neighborhood loves him.

  Lord knows Keelie and I have hashed out our differences a time or two on a cold winter’s walk.

  Lily and I work like mad all afternoon, whipping up batches of waffles in a frenzy. Flo hangs out in the kitchen with me, checking her reflection every chance she gets. Personally, I don’t understand the obsession with looking in the mirror. She’s going to look the same as she did the last time she checked, and there has never been more than a twenty second span that she doesn’t gaze upon herself.

  “You know I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection from the window as I walked into the bakery this morning,” I tell her. “And it was like looking through a fun-house mirror. Why hasn’t anyone told me that my bottom has essentially morphed into a baby bump all on its own? It’s as if someone tucked a beach ball under my shirt and in my pants. I look like a freak.”

  “You look like someone who’s enjoyed a sweet treat or two,” she says, making a plate of waffles for herself. “Speaking of sweet treats, I need my body returned to the morgue pronto if they’re going to work their magic and get me looking decent for my big reveal.” She takes a bite out of a forkful of waffles dipped in butter and syrup and moans through the experience.

  “Not to worry, we’re on it. Everett is going to do the deed tonight.”

  Someone scoffs from behind, and I turn to find Lily standing there with her fists tucked on her hips.

  “Lottie, are you telling the waffles that you and Everett are going to get freaky later?”

  I open my mouth and close it. “Why yes, Lily, I am.”

  Goodness. I’ve gotten myself into more deep-fried pickles because of these ghosts than I can count, but confessing to spilling dirty secrets to a stack of waffles is an all-time low.

  My phone bleats in my pocket, and I’m forever thankful to whoever it is. Anything is better than the conversation at hand. I’d much rather leave my freaky love life with Everett out of the bakery.

  It’s a group text from Evie to Noah, Everett, and me.

  Get home fast! Dash and I were walking Toby and he ran to Uncle Noah’s backyard and dug up a weird bag. Dash and I opened it and found a BODY! This is like the coolest day ever. Way to go, Uncle Noah. You really know how to make me feel better. Don’t worry, Mom. I’m pretty sure this is connected to you somehow, too. Most of the dead bodies in this town are. Oh, and don’t panic. Dash and I have already called 911. I can hear the fire department screaming its way down the street. Gotta run!

  It turns out, Toby is a digger after all.

  And he’s just dug up some serious trouble.

  Chapter 18

  “Can you believe they found my body in time for the big day? That gold leaf casket was perfection and that red beaded gown was to die for. Get it? To die for!” Flo lets out a laugh reminiscent of a trilling dolphin. “I knew you’d come through for me, Lottie Lemon. If you hadn’t hidden my body, my Aunt Connie and Aunt Cat would have ruined my life.”

  My lips cinch shut, lest I remind the deceased she is, in fact, deceased.

  Florenza Canelli shimmers as an entire galaxy of stars surround her in every shade of pink. It’s the day of her funeral, the day she’s finally being laid to rest, and a part of me is hoping this case will be laid to rest, too.

  “I’m glad you were happy with the way things worked out. The funeral was very touching. Not a dry eye in the house.”

  I take a look around the large private room in the back of the steakhouse where the wake is taking place, and it’s wall-to-wall people. There’s a buffet of every savory food you can imagine—ham and every cut of steak you can desire.

  The dessert table is fill
ed with sweet treats from both Sofia’s Sweet Shop and my bakery. Most of Sophia’s offerings are already gone, and the only thing running short on my end are my waffles. I’m not insulted. I’ve been noshing on Sofia’s sweet treats, too. And she’s really inspired me to step up my baking game.

  Flo gasps as she points to the corner of the room. “Look at that! Rocky and Nicky are having a chat and it almost looks civil.”

  “That’s funny. They weren’t so civil the other day.”

  Noah mentioned they were both at the bloodbath that killed thirteen people. All four of Canelli’s injured men ended up biting the big one, and seven of the ten that were injured from the Lazzari family have passed away as well. The boys from New Jersey only lost two. Noah says this turf war could last generations.

  Flo flicks her wrist at me. “It was bound to happen. Just wait until my Ruthless Witches get involved. Lorena and Donata are going to straighten those boys out.”

  “So you’re saying this is a good time to be in the casket business?”

  She rolls her eyes. “I’m saying the Ruthless Witches is about building peace between families. We girls are lovers, not fighters. That is, unless someone gets too close to our men. In that case, that’s when we get ruthless. I’d better go see what they’re saying before I miss all the good stuff.”

  The only thing they get ruthless over is protecting their men? I suppose it’s a far nobler cause than turf.

  Noah and Everett step over, each with a drink in their hands, their faces pensive as they continue to survey the room. They’ve both donned dark suits, dark ties, and dark brooding expressions.

  Noah’s arm is still in a sling, but that didn’t stop him from heading back to work the day after the incident. The other day when Flo’s body was found in Noah’s backyard, our neighborhood turned into a media circus. All sorts of theories are flying regarding how that body ended up in the chief investigator’s backyard, and thankfully the theory that Noah did the deed seems to be the one people are laughing off.

  The media seems to lean on the side of a setup by one of the feuding crime families. The Ashford County Sheriff’s Department is exploring all possibilities and has beefed up security in our neighborhood to the point it feels as if we’re under house arrest.

  “I think we should go,” Everett says. “We’re standing in a room full of people who just engaged in a full-fledged slaughter.”

  Noah nods. “And I have no doubt just about everyone here is heavily armed. Lottie, do you have Ethel?”

  “I’ve got her,” Everett says, giving his back a quick pat.

  I raise a finger. “In my defense, I tried to put her on that holster for my thigh, but let’s face it, I can’t even see my thigh anymore.”

  Everett presses out a quick smile just for me—most likely because he’s the only one who’s seen my body from the waist down in all its glory these past few weeks, and judging by the devilish gleam in his eye, he approves.

  “Don’t worry, Lemon. I’ll stay close.” He lands a kiss to my cheek. “You look beautiful today.”

  “I look like I’m hiding the entire circus under this dress,” I say, looking down at the denim number with tiny rosettes sewn along the neckline. I saw Lainey wear this while she was expecting, and I remember thinking it looked adorable on her. And yet I’m not feeling so adorable in this frou-frou frock. “And my belly has exploded in the last few weeks. Just when I didn’t think it was possible to get any bigger, I get bigger. My innie has been an outie for so long, I wonder what will be left of it after I have the baby.”

  Noah chuckles. “You look amazing. I always want to remember you like this. You’re glowing. Not to mention you’re housing a very special being in your body—most likely one that belongs to me, too.” Something steals his attention as he cranes his neck past me. “Ivy just stepped into the room. I’d better see what this is about.”

  He takes off, and Everett wraps his arms around me. “I realize the guy almost died the other day, but would you think less of me if I told you how annoying I find him? Sugar Cookie is mine either way.”

  I bite down on a smile. There is nothing sexier than hearing a strong, tough man like Everett refer to his unborn child as Sugar Cookie.

  “You’re right.” I hike up on my tiptoes and press a kiss to his pillowy lips. “This baby is yours no matter what. And so am I.”

  His lids hood as he gives me a kiss in return. “Best news I’ve heard all day.”

  A brisk wind blows our way as Evie pops up with her blonde bestie, Dash.

  “Mom, Dad, thanks for letting us tag along.” Evie looks like a twenty-year-old in her little black dress, her long dark hair running down her back in perfect coils, and her face done up like a supermodel. Dash is looking like her twin in every way with the exception of her hair color. “And thanks for letting me bring my best friend,” Evie says as she pulls the girl in.

  Dash nods as she looks up at Evie who towers over her by a head. “We’ve straightened everything out now. I made it clear that I didn’t expect that kiss from Kyle.” A squeamish look crosses her face. “But once it got going, I didn’t seem to mind it so much, and that’s what Evie saw.”

  Evie shrugs. “Anyway, it’s over. I broke it off with Kyle, and he and Dash are going to see where things go. So it looks like I’m down one boyfriend.”

  “One is plenty,” I tell her, and she makes a face.

  “Mom”—Evie drags out my name with all the drama she can afford—“don’t be a killjoy. What’s good for the geese is good for the gander.” She gasps as she grabs ahold of Dash. “We gotta run. Carlotta is coming, and in no way do I want to be mentioned in her upcoming book on tips and tricks for cougars.”

  The two of them take off as Carlotta steps this way and snaps her fingers as if she were truly frustrated she missed them.

  “It looks as if I’ll have to nix the chapter on the teen scene.” She looks to Everett and me. “I guess that opens up some more room for the two of you. How about a chapter on how the two of you keep the spice alive?”

  “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” I shrug her way.

  “Speaking of kill”—Everett squints out at the distance—“I think I see Conner putting the moves on Evie. I’d better go say hello with my little friend.” He takes off, and Carlotta’s mouth roots to the floor.

  “I figured Sexy had a special name for his goods, but Little Friend wasn’t even on the short list.” She swats me. “Short list, get it? Short list?”

  “You’re hilarious,” I grouse just as Meg and Lainey crop up. And yes, they came to the funeral as well, which makes sense because Meg is close with the Canellis and Lainey heard there would be free desserts from Sofia’s Sweet Shop. Heck, I’d crash a wake or two for these cannolis.

  “Guess who’s going to Starry Falls in a couple days for a female wrestling meet and greet?” Meg hitches her thumb at her chest. “This girl.”

  “Starry Falls?” I marvel. “Aw, I love that little sleepy town with its dreamy falls. Remember when Mom and Dad used to take us there way back when and we’d visit that creepy manor with all the cats surrounding it? That’s the very reason I eventually got Pancake—and, of course, Waffles because I told Nell how great the cats were and she wanted one for herself.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Lainey waves me off. “Never mind the Mortimer Manor. I hear it’s haunted these days. Who’s on the short list?” Lainey asks while popping a raspberry thumbprint cookie into her mouth.

  “Sexy’s pecker,” Carlotta doesn’t hesitate propagating false rumors.

  “It is not,” I’m quick to correct.

  “It is so.” Carlotta is resolved to take down Everett’s dignity. “He calls it his little friend. He just said so himself.”

  Meg howls with laughter. “I knew this day had the potential to bring about the unexpected, but I’ll admit, I didn’t see that one coming. It’s safe to say you and Everett had a little secret between you.”

  “Really?” Lainey
wrinkles her nose. “I haven’t been this disappointed since I found out Santa wasn’t real.”

  “Think of how Lot must feel.” Carlotta pats me on the back. “It’s her tiny burden to bear.”

  Meg shakes her head. “I’d have pegged him for a cucumber.”

  “He is”—Lainey shrugs—“the kind they make pickles out of.”

  The three of them share a wild cackle.

  “Stop,” I groan. “I’m not even going to entertain this conversation, but if you must know, you’re all trolling one hundred percent in the wrong direction.” I spot Rocky Romero standing alone by the coffee—or at least as alone as he can be with Flo by his side—and feel like I should go over and say something to him. “I’m leaving now,” I say.

  “Wait a minute,” Meg calls after me. “What are we looking at? A banana?”

  “A pogo stick?” Lainey calls out, and the three of them are right back to cackling.

  “Rocky,” I say brightly to the morose looking man as Flo dots his face with kisses. “How are you holding up?”

  Flo makes a face. “He’s grieving like the good man he is.”

  “I’m doing as well as can be expected.” His shoulders bounce. “I talked to Nicky. We made peace more or less regarding Flo. He said he’d like to think she’d forgive him for stepping out on her.”

  “Never.” Flo wiggles her claw-like fingernails my way. “I hope that boy suffers.” She cocks her head. “Hey, wait a minute. This might be my last chance to figure out who the wench was. Why don’t you ask him?”

  “Rocky, do you know who the other woman was? I mean, she’d have to be pretty brave to step between Flo and her man. Flo wasn’t just beautiful, she was a powerful woman.”

  “I knew I liked you, Lottie Lemon.” She brays out a laugh.

  Rocky nods. “My money is on Donata.”

  Flo’s face ignites a brilliant shade of red. “That little slut!” Her eyes dart in every direction at once. “Let’s go kill her. Grab a gun, Lottie, would you?”

 

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