“We were not doing it.” I swat her on the arm as Naomi covers her mouth and howls with laughter herself. “My finger got stuck, and he was trying to get it out.”
Meg chortles even louder. “It looked to me like he was trying to get it in! You should have seen the look on that detective. It was priceless. You really know how to serve up revenge, ice-cold and in his face!”
She and Naomi exchange a high five.
Both Naomi and Meg share the same overdyed locks, the color of a raven’s wing, and I’ll admit, it looks great on them. They both share the same ice-blue eyes and devilish grin. In a way, Naomi and Meg look more like twins than Naomi and Keelie.
Naomi leans in. “What’s with the weird crowd?” She looks as if she’s about to be sick as she takes in the masses. “They’re talking about nothing but roadkill.”
Meg nods. “And dead chicks. I heard someone mention seeing a friend who passed away standing in her bathroom in the middle of the night. You and Mom really know how to bring ’em in.”
Dead friend in the bathroom in the middle of the night? Greer Giles comes to mind, and just as I’m about to wave it off, my eyes spring wide open.
Carlotta says something, and the girls around her spike with laughter.
“Oh my God,” I whisper. The meeting! No wonder she’s not pushing me out the door. The meeting is taking place right here at the bakery! I clear my throat. “Yes, well, Mom’s haunted B&B tour has taken both the B&B and the bakery out of the red, so I don’t mind one bit how grim the conversations might be—as long as they’re putting in a steady stream of orders, I’m fine with it.”
I am so not fine with this. Carlotta will pay for hosting a paranormal convention right here in the bakery. I give a scrutinizing look to the women who have traversed beings from the other side to be here, and I don’t recognize a single face.
Meg grunts, “I’d better get across the street. I told Rhonda I’d help her deliver all those flowers to the Evergreen and stage everything. She said I could have a temporary position while I’m in Honey Hollow, and I think I might take her up on it.”
“That’s great.” I’m momentarily pulled out of my supernatural stupor. “Any hope of you ditching the wrestling circuit for good and making Honey Hollow your home once again?”
“I don’t know.” She pulls a tube of bright blue lipstick out of her purse and blindly rings her lips with it. It’s brilliant and shocking, much like Meg herself, and yet the hue reminds me every bit of Everett’s eyes. “It looks like the town is full of kooks these days.” She gives a deadeye look to the women seated behind me. “I actually heard them talking about seeing animals that weren’t really there. It’s like someone freed the prisoners from the funny farm, and they’re all congregating in your bakery. I’ll see you witches tonight.” She takes off, and Naomi makes a face.
“That’s funny.” Naomi shakes her head. “Every once in a while, I swear I see animals that no one else does.” Naomi lifts a finger as she heads to the door. “I’ll make sure everything is perfect for Lainey tonight.” A greedy grin takes over her face. “Britney Fox has been consulting with the gym remodel at the Evergreen, and she has fabulous ideas for tonight’s venue.”
My mouth falls open. “Do not let that woman near my sister’s engagement party!” But it’s too late. Naomi is off into the windblown street, her hair flying straight into the sky as if Greer Giles herself were tugging at it.
Carlotta scuttles on over. That devious gleam in her eye is one I’ve seen in myself a time or two when I’m trying to get away with something.
I pull her in tight. “Naomi just said she sees animals on occasion that others can’t see!”
Her mouth contorts into all sorts of interesting shapes. “She must be one of us. Charlotte was just saying this runs strictly in families.” She glances back at the group of women who are in the process of conjoining their tables. “I just asked Lily to slice up some of that scrumptious white chocolate torte and get the coffee flowing.”
“That torte was Lainey’s engagement cake!” One of five I baked for the occasion. I look to Lily as she picks up a carafe. “Banana muffins for our friends.” I nod with a threat in my eyes. Lily knows better than to take a knife to those butter rich white chocolate wonders. And Lord knows I have enough banana muffins to line all of Honey Hollow with.
Carlotta shuttles me over to the gaggle of women and seats us smack in the middle. “Never mind the sugar sweet details. It’s time to get this paranormal party started.” She taps her hand on the table, and soon enough all eyes are feasted our way. “Everybody, I’d like to introduce you to my daughter, Lottie Lemon. This is, in fact, her very own bakery—and it’s unlimited desserts and coffee, free of charge for each of you!”
The crowd lets out a collective whoop, and I cut a mean look to this biological version of me.
She clears her throat. “I realize we’ve just met ourselves, but my daughter here is very new to the supersensual scene. So let’s play nice, ladies.”
A warm round of laughter bursts out. They’re all beautiful in their own right—a diverse crowd ranging in what looks to be their late teens right down to a handful of octogenarians.
A brunette with a sharply defined nose and drawn in triangular brows smooths her hands over the table. “Let’s call this meeting to order. My name is Arlene Potts, and I’d like to personally welcome our newest members, Carlotta and her daughter Lottie Lemon.”
I cringe when she refers to Carlotta as my mother, but in light of the circumstances I think it’s best to leave Miranda Lemon out of this.
Lily swoops by and crop-dusts the table with banana muffins and coffee so fast I’m sweating bullets in the event she hears a whisper of anything illogical, but she’s back behind the counter happily texting on her phone and none the wiser.
Arlene taps her coffee mug to the table, once again training every eye to look her way. “As a regional representative, I think it’s only fair if we go around and introduce ourselves and our gifts.” One by one each woman gives her first name and the type of supernatural favor she’s been gifted. Most are like me, dead pets with an occasional person thrown in the mix. A few only see the furry dearly departed, while others strictly see humans. When it gets to me, Arlene offers a knowing nod.
“Ask all of the questions bubbling in your mind. We’ll try to answer them as best as possible.”
“Perfect.” I lean in. “So, when you see these deceased creatures, or people, are they always a precursor to something awful happening?”
The entire table breaks out into titters as they look to one another, a majority of which shake their heads at me as if I’ve just let an obscene odor fly.
A petite woman about my age, short blonde bob, large coffee-colored eyes raises her hand. “I’ve seen a connection. I’m talking spilt coffee, the dropping of a cell phone. Once I witnessed my neighbor back into his trash cans. I had wondered if it was related.”
I bite down hard over my lower lip. This isn’t exactly what I was hoping to hear.
“So, um, why do you think the other side would like to communicate with us?” I glance around, and every face looks suddenly vacant, morbidly staring back at me as if I were about to let them in on some deep, dark, cosmic secret.
Arlene taps her glittery green nails on the table. “I’m thinking it’s not so much that they’d like to communicate as much as it is that we have been gifted an extraordinary sense of vision.”
“But don’t you think there’s some purpose to having that gift?” I dare to press in deeper.
Carlotta lifts a hand. “I think what my daughter would like to know is why is it she’s always stumbling upon a dead body once she spies the little creatures—or big ones.” She leans in. “She’s got a bona fide posthumous human on her hands this month.” The table breaks out into murmurs as if they could commiserate.
A feisty looking brunette with a nose piercing and dramatically dark lipstick that glows off her pale skin slaps a hand to th
e table. “Every gift has the capability to grow and progress. Yes, the dead always come back to those they loved. Sometimes to work on unfinished business, sometimes just to observe or offer comfort, and sometimes to take their loved one home. It sounds to me like you have the latter.”
Arlene looks my way. “Can you expound upon the evolution of your powers?”
I shudder when she says the P word. I shoot a quick glance to Lily, who is safely tucked behind the counter, and lean in.
“It started with simple things, a skinned knee, a busted femur, and then just this last September it escalated to bona fide bodies. And it hasn’t let up yet. At first, I couldn’t hear them at all, the pets, that is, and come to think of it, I couldn’t hear the human who paid me a visit in November. But the Golden Retriever I met in December, him I could hear. And the ornery bear in January, well, he had the ability to move things in the natural world, as did the herd of Chihuahuas in February. But this month, the ghost of the last murder victim, she can move things, and unfortunately for me, I can hear every little thing she has to say.” I lean back in my seat, and all I see are the whites of their eyes.
“Lottie?” Arlene leans in deep. “I don’t know how you can possibly be experiencing this in such alarming frequency. The closest we’ve ever had to a supernatural connection is at most twice a year.”
The blonde bob nods. “It’s been three years since my last.”
The feisty brunette ticks her head to the side. “I had three in one year, but I haven’t seen a thing in six months.”
Carlotta sighs. “I can see the things Lottie calls to herself, but I myself haven’t had the pleasure for close to two years.”
“I don’t call these things to myself,” I’m quick to correct.
“Oh, you do.” Arlene perks up. “In fact, your powers are the strongest I’ve ever seen. I’ll be sure to contact the transmundane headquarters and let them know about you. I’ve only heard of one other case that involved murder.” Her lips invert as if she were unsure if she wanted to divulge what comes next. “She’s one of the top private detectives in all of Connecticut—maybe even the country.”
I take a quick breath. “Connecticut is only a few hours away. I’d love to meet this person. What’s her name?”
Arlene lifts her gaze to the ceiling a moment. “Morgana Harold. She’s constantly stumbling upon bodies like yourself. If I had a way to connect you, I would, but I’m sure she’s easy enough to find.”
The meeting goes on and I listen to every conversation under the sun, most of which do not involve anything that was once remotely living. Arlene lets me know the next meeting won’t be for several months, but that she’ll be in touch with the both of us, and soon enough the bakery clears out.
“Well?” Carlotta ticks her head to the side. “What did you think?”
“I think the supernatural coffee klatch wasn’t all that supernatural. And it has me worried.” I bite down hard on my bottom lip as a thousand thoughts flit through my mind.
“Lottie, you’re special. I knew that about you the moment I had you.” Her hazel eyes press into mine. “That’s part of the reason I didn’t feel like I could raise you. I didn’t know what to do with my own transmundane nature, let alone if you had them. But now that I’m back, I’m determined to help you. Now, you heard that woman. The gal in Connecticut is raking in the big bucks by busting bad guys. I say you and I open up shop right here in Honey Hollow—”
“You can stop right there. I’m not turning a profit off other people’s misery. If I can help solve a murder, it’s purely out of the goodness of my heart. I don’t need it to become my chief revenue for new handbags.”
She scowls at the thought. “You like to bake, and you sure don’t mind turning a profit. And what about that new ex of yours? You think Noah Fox refuses a paycheck? Look, Lottie, I’m just saying people work with what they’ve got to get by in this world. All I’m saying is think about it. If you’re an official PI, you can—”
“I won’t have time for the bakery. Which, by the way, is turning a profit. I have plenty to live off.”
“Oh? Is that why you live in a rental, drive a car that died ten years ago, and have holes in your boots?”
I look down at the worn toes on my favorite work boots. “I’m not doing it. I’m not a private investigator. I don’t want to go to PI school and get a license and have an entire slew of murders to solve. I like things just the way they are—sort of. But one thing is for sure. I’m going to have a meet-up with Morgana Harold sooner than later. I need to know how to manage these spirits. Greer Giles is a loose cannon. That bear back in January could have killed somebody itself.”
Her eyes widen with glee. “You could be the ghost whisperer! I bet they’ll even give you your own TV show.”
“We’re done,” I say, pulling the tables back into their proper formation. “I’ll see you at the Evergreen tonight and not a word of any of this. And please, no more business ideas.”
“Have it your way. But you could do a lot of good for a lot of people.”
Her words ring out in my mind long after she leaves. I doubt I could do any good. As it stands, the only thing I do is inadvertently bring up the body count in Honey Hollow.
Maybe what I really need to know is how to turn off these so-called powers and stop finding bodies everywhere I look. Now that would be a supernatural feat.
Chapter 8
There is nothing as beautiful on a blustery night in Vermont as the Evergreen Manor bejeweled with a plethora of twinkle lights. The manor itself is an old colonial mansion restored and refurbished to be Honey Hollow’s one and only true blue inn. My mother’s B&B used to get the overflow until Eve Hollister’s long deceased black bear came back from the dead and put it on the map as the premier haunted go-to spot in all the Western Hemisphere. Although, there have been rumors that the entire thing is a sham and the word bogus is popping up quite a bit in the online reviews. If my mother doesn’t up her haunting game soon, the spooky gig and her extra income will both go up in smoke.
I step inside the Evergreen Manor, and the scent of fresh cut roses permeates my senses. The entire foyer and lobby have been transformed with elegant floral garland and wreaths in peaches and pinks. To the far right is the grand room, and I can hear soft classical music streaming from it. Inside the great hall, I spot mood lighting and more twinkle lights, giving it a romantic appeal. A huge chalkboard sits outside the grand room with the words Congratulations Lainey and Forest scrawled over it in gorgeous flowery script.
It all looks perfectly dreamy, as it should, considering Lainey and Forest are soulmates who deserve to be together forever. I wish I had a soulmate. I thought I had one, a perfectly good one at that, but, as it stands, I’m right back to rolling on in life all by my lonesome. A soulmate would be pretty nice. Noah flits through my mind, and my mood instantly sours. He and his wife just had to go and ruin everything. Although, some might say I was the third party in his love story, and the thought makes me shudder. But if Noah isn’t my soulmate, who could it possibly be?
“Lemon?” I jump a little as I spin around to find Essex Everett Baxter looking every bit the Mr. Sexy devil he’s known to be in barista circles far and wide. His hair is dewy and neatly slicked back, his face clean-shaven, his cologne does its best to take down my defenses—my God, is it ever working—and that barely-there dirty grin is taking down the rest of me. “You look impeccable this evening.” His eyes glide down my navy gown.
“And you look resplendent.” I glower over at the spook by his side. “And you look pretty good yourself for someone who bit the big one more than a month ago.”
“I bit the big cupcake.” Greer makes a face because it just so happens that after she was shot, her killer saw fit to shove one of my red velvet cupcakes down her throat in order to keep her quiet until she drifted off to eternity. “Speaking of which, I am a sucker for those banana muffins of yours, and I can smell them from here. See what you can do about getting me
to taste one of those things.” She glides her finger down Everett’s tie. “There are a few other things I’d like to taste as well. You have no idea what it’s like to have a craving go unmet.” She takes off for the grand room, and I step in closer to the dreamy judge before me—judge on leave, that is.
“She’s gone.” I grimace. “Is she—you know? Causing problems for you?” I glance to his belt before my eyes ride back up again.
“I can assure you I have no problems in that area nor have I noticed anything off. But if at all possible, I’d like her out of my house.” His lids hood low, and a dangerous smile flirts with his lips. “I have another woman in mind that I’d like to entertain.”
My mouth falls open. “Are you flirting with me?”
“I believe I’m inviting you to have a nightcap at my place.”
“I don’t drink.” I can’t help but tease him. Everett is so stony-faced and serious, and even though it’s a part of his charm, a part of me wants to infiltrate the armor.
“I’ll serve tea.”
“Then it’s a date—our third to be exact. You really do move quickly.”
A dark laugh catches in his throat, but he won’t give it.
I wince because I’m not looking forward to derailing us so far off-topic. “Any idea how that knife ended up in the back of your car?”
“None whatsoever. But I don’t think Noah planted it. The courthouse isn’t too thrilled about the news, but Fiona convinced them that if there wasn’t an arrest made by next Friday, I could resume my position.”
“Believe me, I’m thankful that you’re back to work—but Fiona Dagmeyer?” I can’t help but snarl at the mention of her name. She’s one of Everett’s infamous exes and apparently a very good defense lawyer. “You don’t think the sheriff’s department has enough to make an arrest, do you?”
“No, but I think we need to step up this investigation. A week has passed, and we haven’t hit one hotel room, underground casino, or massage parlor.”
Murder in the Mix Box Set Page 7
