Christmas Fudge Fatality

by Addison Moore

  “I know.” I glance to Everett a moment. “So, Mom, I need to be here in case they need me for questioning.” I take Waffles from Everett and hand him to Chrissy. “Please take the cats back to my place. Mom, you have the key. If you could leave the lights on for the cats, I’m sure I’ll be home soon.”

  “Will do.” Mom pulls me in for a quick embrace and the scent of lilacs permeates my senses. “Oh, and before I forget, Chrissy and I are hosting a speed dating event at the B&B weekend after next. Would you mind catering the event for us?”

  “Please, Lottie.” Chrissy leans in. “The chocolate fudge they served here is amazing. You must give me the recipe.”

  “I sure will. And I will certainly cater the desserts for the event. But speed dating? Are you sure about that?”

  Mom is quick to wave off my trepidation. “It’ll be fine, Lottie. And who knows? We might just walk away with a beau apiece.” She shakes her shoulders suggestively—a move she’s more than perfected. “We’ll see you both later. Oh, and Judge Baxter? We would be delighted to have you attend the event yourself.”

  “Mother.” I make a face at her as the two of them scuttle off for the parking lot.

  “Don’t worry, Lemon.” Everett wraps an arm around my waist. “I’ll go as your assistant.”

  “Thank you.” I reach up and give the scruff on his cheek a quick scratch. Everett’s dark hair and blue-eyed combination has had the ability to melt me right from the start.

  A series of quick barks disrupt the moment as an adorable, yet long since passed on to the other side French bulldog scampers this way.

  I take up Everett’s hand in case Noel feels the need to speak. A while back I discovered that if I’m touching someone, they, too, can hear the dead speak. I guess you could say I act like a natural conduit.

  “Noel!” I reach down and give his head a quick scratch, and he feels every bit as solid and real as my two cats. It never fails to amaze me at how real the dead can feel when they want to. “Hello. My goodness, you are beautiful.” I stroke his back with my open palm. “My name is Lottie Lemon, and I’m so sorry about Tamara.”

  He whimpers as his head writhes. “She was my mother.” Another sad whine comes from him, and it breaks my heart. “We need to find the killer, and we need to do so quickly. I plan on spending Tamara’s first holiday in paradise right alongside her.”

  My heart wrenches with both grief and a spike of joy at the thought that holidays might be celebrated in paradise. My father is there and I’d like to think he’s having the best time, even if we aren’t with him just yet.

  The rustling sound of a small crowd heading this way garners my attention, and I look back to see Noah and Ivy shuttling Scott along.

  Everett helps me rise and we watch as they head toward the parking lot.

  Stacy comes running from behind. “You didn’t have to do this, Scott! We could have had everything.” She breaks down sobbing, and Lainey is right there to comfort her with a hearty embrace.

  I blow out a hard breath as I look to the worried little poltergeist next to me. “It looks as if you’ll be back to paradise sooner than you think, Noel. I think they just arrested the killer.”

  Noel looks up and shakes his head as if he were disputing the idea.

  His ears pique. “Then why am I still here?”

  I look to Everett as a shiver runs up my spine.

  Why is he still here, indeed?

  Chapter 4

  The Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery is warm and toasty inside compared to the frigid arctic blast just outside its doors.

  I glance out the window and watch as the snow swirls through the air like powdered sugar shaken from the sky. Evergreen boughs of garland are strung all up and down Main Street, and every few feet they’re dotted with cherry red bows. A wreath hangs on every door as far as the eye can see, and, at night, the entire street is lit up with twinkle lights that cascade from one shop to the next.

  “’Tis pretty,” Noel muses with half his ghostly body protruding out of the window and half his adorably pudgy body inside the bakery.

  “It is. There’s no place like Honey Hollow in December.”

  “Lottie?” Lily Swanson, my faithful employee, calls from the register. “Who are you talking to?”

  “Myself.”

  Noel floats back into the shop, and I offer him a quick wink.

  I head back behind the counter and begin stocking the shelves up front with a fresh batch of oatmeal cranberry walnut cookies that just cooled from the oven.

  Lily is a stunning brunette that has spent most of her formidable years loathing me by proxy. You see, her best friend, Naomi Turner, is my best friend, Keelie Turner’s, twin sister. Way back in high school, I dated a boy by the name of Bear Fisher, and Naomi tried her best to snatch him away. But as fate and Bear’s happy hormones would have it, he cheated on me with just about every girl but Naomi. And for some unforeseen reason, Naomi has never forgiven me for it. To be honest, I think she’s never liked the fact that Keelie enjoyed spending more time with me than she did with her.

  “Lottie Lemon!” a cheery voice booms from the side, and I look over to see my perky best friend heading my way right this minute. “You found a body without me?”

  Keelie wraps me in a quick embrace and her sugary perfume trails after her. Keelie is a beauty inside and out with her long blonde waves and bright blue eyes. We’ve been inseparable ever since the day we met in preschool. And now, thanks to the fact our places of employment are somewhat conjoined via a giant walkthrough between our shared wall, we’re still spending our days together.

  Keelie is the manager next door at the Honey Pot Diner. The Honey Pot and the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery just so happened to be owned by the same fabulous woman, Nell Sawyer, who had the vision to connect the two businesses and expand each of our customer bases. Nell is Keelie’s grandmother, and since I’ve spent as much of my childhood with Keelie’s family as I did my own, she feels like my grandmother, too.

  “Unfortunately, I did find a body.” I grimace at my bestie. “Tamara Gray.”

  Keelie sucks in a quick breath. “Oh no, that’s terrible.”

  Noel scampers between us and lets out a riotous bark. “It is absolutely terrible.”

  I nod quickly his way, mostly because I feel bad that he can’t really be included in the conversation. Keelie might be my closest friend on the planet, but she has no idea about my supersensual abilities. I’m not sure why I’ve never told Keelie, but I’m pretty sure it’s because I never wanted our friendship to change in any way. I love her that much.

  Keelie shudders before warming her arms with her hands. “So what’s next? Are there suspects to grill? Oh please, let one lead to an all-male strip club.”

  Both Lily and I can’t help but roll our eyes. It’s true, though. Keelie and I have spent our fair share of time in seedy joints such as the aforementioned all-male review clubs in an effort to apprehend a killer or two.

  I wrinkle my nose over at her. “I’m afraid not this time.”

  Noel scoffs. “Thankfully so.”

  Lily leans in. “I heard they arrested Scott Gray for the murder.”

  I shake my head. “They took him in last night for questioning. I don’t think formal charges have been filed. Noah texted this morning and said Scott was sticking strong to his story. He says he’s innocent.” I can’t believe the words as they stream out of my own mouth.

  I don’t believe he’s innocent.

  Do I?

  Keelie swipes an oatmeal cranberry walnut cookie off the tray and moans as she takes a bite.

  “Oh wow, Lottie, you really outdid yourself with this one. Have you made these before?”

  “No, they’re new. I just couldn’t sleep last night. All I could think about was Tamara lying at the bottom of the ravine. So I came in early and started experimenting with ingredients. I can’t believe I haven’t thought of these before.”

  Lily swipes one up and moans through a bite hers
elf. “Wow, they’re perfect.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that,” a friendly female voice calls from the other end of the counter and we look over to find Lainey holding out her hand in anticipation of a tasty treat and I quickly give her two.

  The bell chimes and in walks my mother, dusting the snow off her shoulders as she strides on over.

  “Oh, Lottie, people are talking. Could you please abstain from stumbling upon any more corpses?” She twitches her nose as if she found the idea repulsive, and she’s certainly right about that. “I hope you don’t mind, but my book club had to reassign venues at the last minute. I’m having the carpets cleaned at the B&B for the big speed dating event coming up. You girls must be there. I can’t believe how many people have already RSVP’d.” She turns toward the café. “Oh, and Lottie, please whip up a few platters of your yummiest desserts for the ladies of the club. And throw in some of that delicious fudge, too! Rumor has it, Tamara Gray was holding a bag when they found her. Do you know what that means?”

  Lily raises a hand as if dying to answer for me. “I’ve already amped up production. Send the tourists our way any time you want, Miranda.”

  I can’t help but avert my eyes a moment. I’m still not sure how I feel about these so-called tours.

  My mother just so happens to host paid tours of her haunted B&B at eighty bucks a pop. And after her bevy of ghosts are done giving her customers the appropriate amount of thrills and chills, she puts them right back on the bus they rode in on and sends them to my bakery for what she’s dubbed as The Last Thing They Ate Tour.

  And, sadly, we sell out of each baked good that was associated with the latest, heinous crime. I’m not proud to say each homicide that’s taken place in Honey Hollow has had some morbid connection to my desserts. And this time, it just so happens to be my Christmas fudge.

  Mom fans herself with relief. “Thank goodness, Lily. At least you’re thinking. Oh, and throw in a tray of those naughty gingerbread boys. The girls in the book club will just love to eat those up.”

  Lainey nods to our mother. “Leave it to Miranda Lemon to make eating a gingerbread cookie sound like an X-rated event. What book did you lascivious ladies read this month?”

  Mom lifts a finger. “Well, as you know, we tend to lean toward historical fiction. But, seeing that it’s the holidays and it’s just so cold out, we opted for something with a Christmas theme that was a touch spicier than we’re used to.”

  Keelie sucks in a breath, a laugh quivering in her chest. “What exactly was my mother reading?”

  Keelie’s mother and my own are very good friends as well. We’ve been one big happy family for as long as I can remember—with the exception of Naomi, of course. Naomi is rarely ever happy about anything.

  Mom bites down on her cherry red lip. “Santa’s Sleigh Bells. Let’s just say Santa is a handsome thirty-something who makes nightly visits to all the naughty women on his list. I’ve read it cover to cover three times.” She gives a cheeky wink before heading to the rear of the café and pulling together a couple of tables.

  Keelie leans in with a giggle in her throat. “I bet she’ll read it ten times before Christmas Eve.”

  Noel gives a few friendly barks. “What about the investigation, Lottie? We’re wasting time with cookies and book clubs. We need to find whoever did this to my sweet Tamara.”

  I sigh down at the pouty pooch just as an idea hits.

  “Lainey? Are you busy this afternoon?”

  “Nope. It’s my day off. I should be home soaking in a bubble bath, catching up on my to-be-read pile. I swear, one of these days all those books stacked on my nightstand are going to topple over and kill me in my sleep.”

  Lily sighs hard. “Try not to drag any of Lottie’s desserts to bed with you beforehand,” she says as she heads to the kitchen.

  “Duly noted,” Lainey shouts with a laugh before her features fall as she looks to me. “Only it’s not so funny, is it?” She makes an adorable face. “What do you need this afternoon? Going on another body hunt?”

  “Nope. I just thought it would be nice to deliver a couple of cookie platters to the employees over at the Gray Farm. I’m guessing they could all use a little cheering up.”

  “Hey?” Her face brightens. “Stacy will probably be there! I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’m in.”

  It’s nice to know that whatever schemes I might have brewing, I’ll always have my big sister by my side.

  Now if I could only figure out who killed Tamara.

  The Grays’ produce farm sits on a forty-acre sprawl on the edge of Honey Hollow where the hillsides seem to butt right up to heaven. At the entry, there’s a big wooden sign that welcomes us to the property, and I drive the bakery van right to the front of the offices where most of the employees tend to congregate.

  Lainey helps me schlep in four platters of every sweet treat I could get my oven mitts on. I’ve piled each one high with peppermint bark, peppermint chocolate brownies, and gingerbread men and women—mostly women, no thanks to my mother and her thorny horny book club. But there are peppermint pinwheels and sugar cookies in the shapes of Santa, wreathes, reindeer, and Christmas trees. I even included a couple holiday stollen, a German sweet bread made with candied fruit, nuts, and spices. Stollen has been a family tradition for so long, I could practically bake this with my eyes closed. But, lucky for me, I opt to make it with my mouth open. I confess, I’ve made it a tradition to eat the very first roll that comes out of the oven.

  But nothing says Christmas quite like my walnut fudge, and I came prepared with two pink bakery boxes full of—

  I suck in a quick breath and block Lainey from knocking on the door.

  “What was I thinking showing up with the exact sweet treat that poor Tamara ate last?”

  Lainey makes a face. “You’re talking about the fudge, right?” She rings the bell. “Trust me. Once they take their first bite, no one is going to care. If anything, they’ll be glad the poor thing had one last burst of joy. Your fudge is that good, Lottie.”

  The door swings open before I can refute it, and both Lainey and I find ourselves staring right at Stacy Culberson.

  Her hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail, and she’s donned an old flannel shirt and a pair of cowboy boots as if she were ready to head off to the barn despite the snow flurries we’re experiencing.

  “Lottie—Lainey.” She offers a pained smile. “Please come in. What is all this?” She takes a tray from Lainey and smiles as she peels back the aluminum cover.

  “Just a few treats for you and the rest of the employees,” I say as she ushers us into an expansive room next to the foyer that looks like a comfortable living room with oversized leather couches and round wooden coffee tables that are strewn about.

  A few people migrate over, and we set the desserts down on the elongated dining room table. Soon enough, there’s a smattering of people thanking us profusely and enjoying the sweet treats at hand.

  Stacy shrugs as she leads us over to the Christmas tree in the corner. “Free tree courtesy of the Jolly Holly Tree Lot. They felt so bad they wanted to do something. Just like you nice folks.”

  Lainey pulls her old friend in for a quick hug. “How are you holding up? Have you heard from Scott?”

  She sniffs hard and nods. “He came back last night and packed a bag. He said he couldn’t believe I threw him under the bus like that.” Her face falls into her hands and she sobs silently a moment while Lainey rubs her back. She sniffs as she straightens once again. “I mean he did it.”

  “He confessed?” I hiss it out so fast Noel pops up from thin air and barks up a storm.

  “Did he do it, Lottie? Did he?” The ghostly pooch dances in a circle around the three of us.

  I shake my head down at him before looking back to Stacy. “Did he?”

  Stacy rolls her eyes. “Of course not. But he obviously did it. He’s just running scared right now. I told him if he confessed, they’d go easy on him.” Her eyes g
row cold as she looks to the corner of the room.

  Lainey wraps an arm around Stacy’s shoulders. “What is it?”

  She shakes her head. “I guess I can tell the two of you. I mean, Scott and I are basically over.” She swallows hard, briefly looking over her shoulder. “He has a dark side. I didn’t see it at first. And Tamara tried to warn me. But I thought she was just trying to keep us apart. I couldn’t blame her if she was. It wasn’t right what Scott and I did, but I suppose that’s all in the past now. Anyway, he has a temper. You both saw it last night.”

  Lainey’s fingers fly to her lips. “Has he ever hurt you?”

  Stacy closes her eyes a moment. “He shook me once. Mostly his abuse was verbal, but he always begged for forgiveness, and of course, I always gave it to him. And to think, I thought we were soulmates.”

  She swallows hard again and blinks several times dramatically, but my guard is up and I haven’t seen a genuine tear yet. Although, when my father died, my little sister Meg couldn’t cry. She was shaken and angry, but tears never came. I guess you can’t really judge someone by how they choose to grieve—and she is grieving a relationship in a way. Maybe even the former friendship she once had with Tamara.

  Heck, Scott turned out to be a loser and Stacy didn’t care for Tamara. Maybe she doesn’t have a reason to shed a real tear.

  Noel sniffs around her boots. “I smell bull. Ask if she saw him push her off that embankment.”

  “Stacy?” I say her name quietly. “Did you see the altercation between Scott and Tamara?”

  Her gaze flits across the room. “I think we all did. But if you’re asking about the big heave-ho he gave her”—she takes a quivering breath and holds it—“I did.” Her gaze floats to the ceiling. “It was terrible. I didn’t know what I was seeing. I thought maybe she fell in the bushes—that he would help her up. I headed back out of the woods, and that’s when I stumbled upon Joyce and Bonnie.” She shakes her head. “And now that I know what really happened—that look in Tamara’s eyes will haunt me forever.”