“Lottie.” Tamara offers me a meager smile. “I meant what I said. Your fudge is delicious. In fact, it’s the only good thing about this day.” She hardens her eyes over at Stacy as she says that last part.
My heart thumps at the volatility of the situation. “I’m glad you like it.”
Lainey steals Pancake right out of my arms. “And here’s my handsome little nephew.” She ticks her head toward her old friend and I quickly offer up a somber nod. “Lottie, you know Stacy.”
“Hi, Stacy. Everyone.” I nod to the small crowd I’m regretfully holding at awkward attention. “I’m Lottie and this is my friend, Everett—Judge Baxter.”
Tamara offers a somewhat pained smile at the two of us. “Nice to meet you, Judge Baxter. I’ve spent my fair share of time in a courtroom as of late. In fact, I’ll probably spend the rest of my life in court. I’ve probably seen you around the courthouse a time or two.” She nods his way. “Lottie, Judge Baxter, these are my friends, Joyce and Bonnie.” She waves a hand to the two women ensconcing her on either side, who look to be about the same age as Tamara. The blonde with her hair stacked up in a messy bun is quick to shake Everett’s hand.
“Bonnie Dupre.” Her silver eyes widen the size of dinner plates. Obviously, the woman is dazzled by the demigod by my side, as she should be. “I’m the accountant at Gray Farms. Clearly, I’ve been spending far too much time with barnyard animals. I didn’t realize they made men like you. Boy, am I ever glad I came out tonight. Are you free for drinks later?”
The short brunette with bronzed skin and an overall exotic look about her quickly pushes Bonnie out of the way.
“Don’t pay attention to her. Joyce Calypso.” She quickly picks up Everett’s hand and offers up an aggressive shake. “I’m Tamara’s personal trainer. Ready and willing to kick anyone’s behind who gets in her way.” She bats her lashes playfully up at Everett. “I’m not afraid to show off my moves to anyone who’s interested either. Can I buy you a cup of eggnog? Rumor has it, they’ve spiked it with rum this year.”
Stacy leads Tamara off before Everett can respond, and Lainey hands me Pancake before following along with them.
I look up at my handsome escort. “Would you excuse me for a moment?”
“Sure.” He nods to Pancake and I gently hand him over. “Stay where Pancake and I can see you, Lemon. I mean it.”
A dark rumble of a laugh strums through me. “You know I will. Steer clear of the liquor, would you?” I can’t help but make a face at Joyce before I take off for far more hostile waters.
But, surprisingly, Stacy and Tamara seem to be sharing a laugh by the time I make it by my sister’s side.
“What did I miss?” I give Lainey the crazy eyes because we both know these two women don’t have much to laugh about these days.
Tamara waves it off. “Lainey reminded us of some stupid prank we pulled when we were seniors. I guess I can’t believe how long I’ve known the two of you.” She lifts her chin to Stacy. “Some have proven better friends than others.” She looks my way. “Hey, Lottie, while I have you here—I’m throwing a Christmas party for the employees at the farm, and I would love it if I could get you to cater the desserts for me. I’d bake them myself, but I’ve got another woman shuffling around my kitchen.” Her lips harden in a knot as she glances to Stacy. “I moved into the guest house a few months back, and I haven’t moved any of my baking supplies just yet.”
“Not to worry. I’ve got you covered. Just call me with the details.”
“Great. I’ll do it tonight, before I forget.”
Stacy rolls her eyes at Tamara. “You know I’d leave the house for you to do whatever you wanted. I’ve already told you that a million times, but you just love to paint me in an unfavorable light.”
Tamara straightens. “Pardon me? I like to paint you in an unfavorable light? I think you’re doing just fine on your own in that department. Maybe the fact that you flirted shamelessly with my husband and then stole him had something to do with it?”
“I didn’t have to steal him—you locked him out emotionally.” Stacy takes a bold step in and Lainey quickly squeezes between them.
“Hey, hey”—Lainey holds her hands out in an effort to separate the two—“let’s be civilized.”
“No use in that,” a deep voice strums from behind as Scott Gray himself comes up looking winded and all around irritated by the situation at hand. He takes Stacy in his arms and pulls her in close before dotting a kiss to her cheek. “Is she bothering you again?”
Tamara huffs, “Are you kidding? You’re concerned over the fact that I’m bothering her? It never fails to amaze me how I ended up being the bad guy in this scenario. Honestly, the two of you deserve one another. But I’ll tell you what you don’t deserve—one square inch of my land. I’m not caving, Scott. I’ll drag this thing out in court for decades if I have to.”
“You’ll bankrupt us both!” he bellows so loud everyone in the vicinity turns to stare.
“And I’ll be glad to do it!” she shouts right back.
Bonnie and Joyce scuttle over and pull Tamara off toward the woods.
Scott stumbles back with Stacy in his arms. “Don’t worry. She’s not getting an ounce of dirt from me. I broke my back in those fields while she sat around staring at her phone. It’ll be over my dead body that I hand over the reins to the farm. If she thinks she’s going to drain me financially, I’ve got news for her. I’ll drain her.” They take off and Lainey quickly latches onto my arm.
“He’ll drain her?” Lainey shudders at the thought. “That sounds ominous. I think maybe both Tamara and Stacy should get a restraining order on him.”
“He’s just worked up.” I shake my head as I watch him and Stacy take off for the woods themselves, and suddenly I’m glad that Noah called for backup. “What were you thinking letting Stacy anywhere near Tamara tonight? You know they have a dicey relationship.”
“I know, I know, but Stacy said she had something she needed to ask for and wanted me there as a buffer.”
“What did she ask for?”
“She didn’t have a chance. You showed up with Mr. Sexy and cast a spell on Tamara’s friends.”
“Speaking of which,” I turn around to see an entire blob of women surrounding the tall, far too comely for his own safety judge, “I’d better free both him and Pancake.”
“Does that mean you’re finally making a decision between Noah and Everett? Is it Mr. Sexy for the win?”
“I’m not choosing. I mean, I’m not ready to choose.” I grimace as the crowd of estrogen surrounding him only grows by the second. “Let’s just say I’m weighing my options. Which is not an easy task when both options are pretty stellar.”
“Well, I’m glad you’ve got this gargantuan decision to make and not me. I’m lousy at decision-making—and I’m greedy. I’d probably choose both. Speaking of choosing both, Mom and Meg are somewhere trying to choose the tree for the B&B. If I don’t help out, Mom will probably have a tree for every room in that haunted place before the night is through.”
She takes off and I make my way toward the crowd of estrogen surrounding my favorite legal eagle. Not shocking in the least. Everett gets the attention from both the young and old everywhere we go.
It’s not as easy as it looks plucking Everett away from fifty hormonal women who all seem to want to buy the good judge a drink.
I take him by the hand as I try to navigate us back to Noah and that impossibly long line that only seems to be growing in both directions.
“You’re not thirsty, are you, Everett?” I tease as we head back with Pancake curled in his arms and sleeping.
“Only if you’re buying. Better yet, why don’t you come by for a nightcap? We can quench our thirst together.”
We come upon Noah and Waffles before I can answer and I bite my lip as I shrug up at Everett instead.
About forty minutes drift by with the line moving so painfully slow I feel as if I owe both Everett and Noah a dri
nk for asking them to stand in the snow with me just so my cats can get a picture with Santa. I’m about to tell them exactly that when I spot Stacy speaking with Joyce and Bonnie, and not a sign of Tamara anywhere.
“You know”—I take Waffles from Noah—“my legs are going numb. I think I’m going to take a quick walk.”
“I’ll go with you,” Noah is quick to offer. “Everett, I think it’s your turn to hold our place in line.”
Everett holds Pancake close to his chest. “There are some people and pets that I’d risk hypothermia for.” He frowns over at Noah. “Good luck losing him, Lemon.”
A tiny laugh bubbles in my chest as I lead Noah off in the direction Stacy stands with Tamara’s friends.
“That’s funny,” I say. “They seem to be having an amicable conversation. But where’s Tamara? Her ex was fuming at her earlier. It got pretty ugly.”
Noah shakes his head at the thought. “I never understood how two people who were once so in love could let things turn so ugly.” He winces a moment as if he regrets his words. Noah and I have let it get ugly a time or two—granted not to this degree. “Where did you see Tamara last?”
“They were all headed that way, to the woods.”
“There’s an overlook there. Maybe they were looking at the view?”
A thought comes to me. “Hey? Maybe Tamara’s still there taking in the lights of Honey Hollow. You know, clearing her head?”
Noah and I speed off to the woods and make our way to the overlook, but there’s no sign of Tamara anywhere.
“She’s not here.” I sigh as I go to lean against the old fence railing that butts up to a steep embankment, but Noah pulls me back.
“Careful, Lottie. That old wooden fence looks as if it’s rotted away. You almost fell right into the ravine.”
“Oh my God.” I press up against his chest just as my eye snags on jagged pieces of wood. “Noah, the fence doesn’t look rotted out. It looks as if it’s been snapped.”
Noah pulls out his phone and uses it as a flashlight as we lean over to inspect the ravine below.
Lying at the bottom is an all too familiar brunette with her limbs splayed out, and she just so happens to have my walnut fudge strewn all over her chest. Beside her sits a faithful French bulldog whose flesh glows an ethereal blue.
Tamara won’t have to worry about spending the rest of her life in court.
Tamara Gray is dead.
Chapter 3
A violent wind whistles by and the earth beneath my feet seems to grow unsteady.
A horrid cry comes from my throat as I quickly tuck my face into Noah’s neck.
“I’m sorry, Lottie.” He presses a hot kiss to my forehead. “Let me call for help.” Noah does just that. In a moment it seems as if I’ve been transported into Everett’s arms and the entire place is crawling with deputies from the sheriff’s department. Both Noah and Detective Ivy Fairbanks are at the bottom of the ravine, analyzing the scene from every angle.
“She was pushed, Everett.” My breath comes out in long powder-like plumes. “The fence snapped right there.” I’m quick to point out the jagged pieces of wood that alone look as if they could cost someone their life. “I bet it was her soon-to-be ex-husband. They went after each other just moments before. And he threatened her. I was there. I heard everything.”
Everett takes a breath and presses those deep blue eyes into mine. “You might be right, but I think we should keep any theories we have to ourselves for now.” He nods to the blooming crowd growing alongside us. “We don’t want to start any rumors.”
Waffles lets out an egregiously loud meow and I startle as if waking.
“Oh, my poor kitties,” I say, carefully extracting one from Everett’s arms. I just about forgot they were here at the tree lot with us, what with the blind terror that struck as soon as I saw poor Tamara’s body. “My mom and my sisters are here. I’ll have them take Pancake and Waffles home for me.”
Everett’s head inches back a notch as if he were the one who was startled now.
“Lemon, I suggest I take you all home. There’s no point in either you or me hanging around.”
“Are you kidding? I’m a witness. I can help. I need to go find Scott and make sure he doesn’t get away—that he doesn’t get away with murder.”
Noah and Ivy pop up next to us and Noah grimaces as if he heard every word.
He shakes his head. “No can do, Lottie. You found the body. You’ve done plenty. The deputies are cordoning off the area.”
Ivy smirks my way as her luscious crimson locks shimmer in the moonlight. Her features are well-chiseled and she has legs for days, but it’s her confidence and acumen as a detective that I’ve always admired about her. What I don’t admire is the fact she’s always doing her best to hoard Noah.
Okay.
Fine.
She gets a pass in that respect because they’re partners.
“We’re asking everyone to go home, Lottie.” She manufactures a tight smile that disappears as quick as it came. “And I’m asking you, personally, to stay out of this investigation. Things will move a lot smoother if we don’t have you nosying around and asking questions. In the event you weren’t aware, people get skittish when they think they’re being probed. One wrong move and the killer could run free forever.”
“Killer?” a female shrills from behind and we turn to find Bonnie standing there with Joyce, Stacy, and Lainey a few feet behind.
“Lainey.” I dash over to my sister and pull her into an embrace with Waffles sandwiched between us.
Bonnie, Joyce, and Stacy all let out a morbid howl at the very same time and it sounds like a horrid aria.
“He’s done it!” Stacy cries. “Oh my God.” She’s quick to bury her head in her hands and Lainey speeds over to help her old friend.
I shake my head at the sight as tears come to my eyes. “It’s an open and shut case.” I look to Noah and Ivy. “Find Scott. I think you’ll have your killer.”
A set of heavy footsteps stomps in this direction and the entire lot of us turns to find Scott barreling this way,
“What’s happening?” he bellows. “Is it true? Is Tamara dead?” He stops just shy of the broken fence and looks down at the scene, his face contorting into a genuine look of terror. “My God. Did she jump?”
“No!” Joyce riots in his face just as Noah jumps in and pulls her away from him. “You did this! You pushed her to her death! And now you’re going to pay.” She shoves Noah off of her as she backs away, her eyes still pinned with hatred over Scott. “I’ll make sure justice is done. You’re going away for a long time, mister. I’m hoping forever.” She takes off for the tree lot once again and Bonnie is slow to follow.
Scott turns to the crowd of onlookers, his eyes growing wider by the moment.
“I didn’t do this.” He raises his hands as if it were a stick-up. “I’m innocent. I don’t know how she got to the bottom of that ravine. But it wasn’t me who put her there.”
Noah nods as he and Ivy shuffle Scott off to the side and begin their interrogation.
I shudder as I lean against Everett. “Boy, that was ugly.”
“I’d have to agree with you. Hopefully, this will get straightened out quickly.”
“Straightened out?” I balk up at him. “Everett, I don’t care how much he protests. The man is clearly guilty.”
Everett pulls his lips back, no smile. “Lemon, if there’s one thing I’ve learned in all my years in law, it’s that no one is guilty until proven so.”
I don’t need proof. But I don’t dare say that out loud either.
Before we know it, an entire legion of deputies shuffles us all out of the woods as they block the area off with bright yellow caution tape.
The crowds at the tree lot scamper in every direction at record pace, and yet somehow in the melee I spot Mom and her best friend, Chrissy Nash.
“Mother!” I speed over, dragging poor Everett along with me. “Mom, I need you to do a huge favor.
Please take Pancake and Waffles home for me.” I hand her Pancake and she pulls him close to her.
“Lottie? What’s happening?” She cranes her neck past me. “Hello, Judge Baxter.” She gives a playful wink. My mother, Miranda Lemon, is a bona fide tease and a flirt. She’s also an all-around joyously wonderful person. Both she and Chrissy share the same shoulder-length blonde waves, the same porcelain complexion, and open features.
“Ladies.” Everett nods to my mother and Chrissy. “I’m afraid there’s been a homicide.”
They both let out a yelp at once.
“Oh my goodness.” My mother pulls me in by the collar of my parka. “Please tell me you did not find the body.”
I wince because, let’s face it, we both know I did.
At this point, it’s sort of my thing.
“Oh, Lottie!” She stomps her foot into the snow as if disappointed in me.
Chrissy leans in, her bright red lips forming a perfect O. “Who was it? Was it someone we know? My God, it wasn’t Harry, was it?”
Harry—as in Mayor Harry Nash is Chrissy’s ex-husband. They finally divorced after years of poor Chrissy tolerating his philandering ways. But they have three grown children about my age, and I’m sure she wouldn’t wish anything so grisly upon him.
I think.
I’m just about to answer when a spark of light erupts from behind them, and sure as Christmas snow, that supernatural pooch makes his ghostly reprisal for the evening.
“Noel!” I hiss so loud half the panicked masses turn my way.
“Noel?” Mom parrots as she and Chrissy exchange a confused look. “I’m afraid I don’t know her.”
“It was a her,” I say quickly, losing the pretty little poltergeist amongst the crowd. “It was Tamara Gray. Someone pushed her off the overlook. We’re pretty sure it was her soon-to-be ex-husband.”
Chrissy gasps. “Scott?”
Mom tosses a hand up and nearly drops Pancake. “Say it isn’t so! What is this world coming to? And all of this at Christmas, of all times.”
Christmas Fudge Fatality Page 2
