Christmas Fudge Fatality

by Addison Moore

  Noel growls and the faint blue aura around his fur picks up until he’s glowing a brilliant shade of blue.

  “Ask if she knows what they were arguing about,” he ruffs it out in a heated growl. Noel is so piping mad I’m sure he’d like to bite an ankle or two. And I’ll be the last to clue him in on the fact he just might be able to do it.

  “I’m so sorry, Stacy.” My hand floats to my chest. “Did you happen to hear what they were arguing about?”

  She cocks her head to the side as if reliving it. “Something about the land, I’m sure. That’s all they ever fought over. Scott was determined that she wouldn’t get an inch of soil.”

  Lainey shifts. “What about money? You know, their bank accounts? I know the farm generates quite an income for them. Do you know if they ever hashed that out?”

  Noel barks at my sister and it sounds as if he’s cheering her on. “Good question!”

  Indeed.

  Stacy shifts her gaze from one end of the room to the other before leaning in.

  “That’s the thing”—she whispers—“Tamara never asked about it because she thought she was getting an even split every month.”

  “She thought?” I ask, stunned by what this implies.

  Stacy nods. “Scott was siphoning funds to a secret account she knew nothing about.”

  Something burns inside of me. “And you weren’t going to tell her either.”

  She lifts her chin as if I had struck her. “I was investigating it, Lottie. I had a feeling Bonnie was in on it. She’s the accountant here.”

  “Bonnie?” both Lainey and I say in unison.

  She nods. “She’s not as innocent as one might think. In fact, if I hadn’t been so sure that Scott had pushed her, I would have pegged Bonnie for it.”

  “Why’s that?” I ask, inching back as if to get a better read on her.

  Stacy looks out the window and stares vacantly for a moment as if looking straight into another dimension.

  “Because Bonnie Dupre has a very big secret.”

  Lainey leans in. “Well? Don’t keep us in suspense. What is it?”

  Stacy looks from my sister to me. “That’s Bonnie’s story to tell. Let’s just say, luck isn’t always a lady. Bonnie Dupre is guilty as sin.”

  Chapter 5

  Bonnie Dupre asked Everett out for drinks again.

  Normally, I would be incensed and say something like the nerve. I was with him at the tree lot that evening, after all. But, quite frankly not only am I relived, but I’m urging Everett to hop to it. Little does Bonnie know that I’ll accidentally on purpose bump right into them before they can knock down their shot glasses.

  “How did she get your number, anyway?” I ask as Everett escorts me through the dark snowy evening and into the shelter of the Red Satin Gentlemen’s Club. Red Satin is tucked in the armpit of the next town over, a seedy place called Leeds.

  “Funny you should ask.” His dark brows twitch, making his blue eyes siren out all the more. “She said she simply asked Detective Fox while he was questioning her, and he happily obliged her with my number.”

  “Noah! That stinker.” A dull laugh ripples through me. “Remind me to ream him out for it.”

  “I already did. I let him know I’ve got an arsenal of great attorneys who would love to do a legal takedown for me. My number isn’t for sale. It’s not a freebie either.”

  “Little did he know his plan to divert your attention away from me would backfire.” I wince. “I mean, that it would allow me to interrogate a suspect.” I give a little shrug. I feel terrible leading us into such awkward relationship territory. “I realize you’re a free agent, Everett.” My cheeks flush with heat. “I’m so sorry my heart and my head are so confused. Although, Noah’s dirty tactics aren’t helping his cause.”

  A smile twitches on his lips, but he’s too stubborn to give it. “I always did say, give that boy enough rope and he’ll do the work himself.”

  “Funny.” I make a face because it’s anything but. And as evidenced by the fact he gave Bonnie the ammo to call Everett, it happens to be true.

  “Lemon.” Everett pulls me in, landing his gorgeous face just inches from mine. He takes a breath and his chest expands over mine. “Don’t ever feel pressured to make a decision. A thousand women could invite me to have a drink, but there’s only one I’d rather be with and that’s you. I’m not going anywhere.” He gently brushes the hair from my forehead. “You are beautiful inside and out—and you are definitely worth the wait.”

  My heart seizes in my chest so fast and tight, I can hardly breathe.

  “Thank you for that, Everett.” It comes out lower than a whisper. And without thinking, I hike up on my tiptoes and dot the scruff on his cheek with a quick kiss. “Let’s go catch a killer.”

  Inside, the Red Satin Gentlemen’s Club is booming. The entire room is thick with bodies, it’s dimly lit, the raunchy music is a touch too loud, and as per its true intentions, there is a bevy of scantily clad beauties both on stage and roaming the floor with a tray in their hands.

  Yes, it’s a strip club. Yes, it’s the very strip club where my sister, Meg, teaches the dancers their lusty thrust moves. The walls, the carpet, and even the bar are a dark shade of crimson. And because of those dark hues alone, it’s always given off the impression that we’ve walked right into a portal to hell.

  Everett weaves us through the crowd, and, as expected, every female in this place is struggling to get a better look at the handsome judge who happens to be built like a linebacker.

  As much as I didn’t like that Bonnie chose this dive as the venue to knock back beers—or Long Island Iced Tea or whatever else she’s hoping to slurp up, I encouraged Everett to have her meet in a place of her choosing. And she just so happened to request they meet in the underbelly of this fine establishment. Yes, the mobsters who run this inglorious place happen to have a full-fledged, fully illegal, gambling casino in the expansive area beneath it.

  A thought hits me, and I pull Everett in by the hand.

  “Hey? Stacy said that luck isn’t always a lady, and Bonnie asked to meet up with you downstairs at the casino.”

  Everett tips his head to the side. “I’m guessing she’s a gambler.”

  “Maybe she has an addiction?”

  “And maybe she’s addicted to men as well,” a deep voice growls from somewhere near the floor and I spot Noel with his powder white face, pink nose, and black svelte ears sticking straight up.

  Everett looks down near our feet. “He’s here, isn’t he? I can hear him.”

  And the only reason Everett can hear him is because he happens to be holding my hand.

  “He sure is,” I say, reaching down and picking up the ghostly pooch. “And my goodness, you feel every bit solid.”

  Noel howls out what sounds like a laugh. “I don’t mind lightening up a bit for you.”

  And he does just that, nearly floating right out of my arms in the process.

  The three of us head downstairs and take a moment to peer inside the casino before heading inside.

  The ping, ping, ping of the one-armed bandits goes off like a chime on a loop, the atmosphere is dim, the music is a touch too loud, and the sound of lively conversations fills the place. Judging by the fact this room is packed tonight lets us know that the state laws of Vermont, regarding its ban on casinos, doesn’t have the power to scare some people off.

  “Oh, look!” I nod to the bar. “There she is, already nursing a drink. Why don’t you head over, and I’ll pretend to bump into you?”

  “You really think she’s going to buy that?”

  “She will when she discovers I’m the jealous girlfriend who has a tracking device attached to your phone.” I give a little wink. “Okay, so I might fake a need for speed at the one-armed bandit myself. Who knows? She might give me a few tips, and I might get lucky.”

  Noel whimpers, “Or she might confess to being the killer.”

  I can’t help but shake my head at th
at one. I just can’t see it.

  Everett heads in while Noel and I do a few laps around the slimy environment. For as many drooling men as there are in the strip club, there are just as many in the casino ogling me as if I were scantily clad myself.

  Finally, I’ve had enough, so I make a beeline over to where that blonde bombshell happens to be laughing it up with my man.

  My heart cinches at the thought of Everett being my man. He could easily be just that if I’d simply say the word. And believe you me, after the stunt Noah pulled, I’m a little closer to doing just that.

  “Well, look who’s here!” I feign surprise as I slide into the empty barstool on the other side of Bonnie.

  Her blonde mane is tousled and teased, drifting around her shoulders like a tumbleweed. Her lips are a caustic shade of red, and she’s donned a gorgeous black gown that as soon as this nightmare is over I will insist she give me the name of the shop where she purchased it.

  “Lottie Lemon?” She inches back before her mouth rounds out into a circle. “Oh no. Please tell me I’m not stepping on your toes.” She squeezes her eyes shut a moment. “Would you believe me if I said I’ve only just now put together the dating pieces? The two of you are a couple, aren’t you?” She turns to Everett and swats him on the arm. “And you’re thinking of cheating on her with me!”

  “No, no!” I try to quickly defuse the situation as Noel dances across the counter in front of us, laughing and barking his ghostly head off as if he were having a heyday with this new development. It’s nice to know he still has his sense of humor intact. “Everett and I are just good friends.” I shrug over at him as soon as she turns his way.

  “In that case.” She picks up his hand and brings it to her lips. “Let me kiss it and make it all better.” And she does just that.

  Gag me.

  Everett chuckles as if he heard my response. Or perhaps he was going off the threatening face I’m making.

  I force a smile to come as soon as Bonnie turns my way. “So what brings you to this place?”

  “Trying my hand at craps.” Bonnie doesn’t miss a beat.

  Do they even have craps here?

  Would I recognize craps if I spotted it in the wild?

  Probably not.

  Noel trots up and sniffs around Bonnie’s candy red fingernails. “She smells of money and greed. Ask her if she killed my Tamara—my best girl.”

  “So who do you think pushed Tamara?” I twitch a brief smile at Noel for giving me the nudge I needed.

  Her eyes widen, and for a moment I see a hint of fear flicker through them.

  Odd. I’ve seen that look before, and it’s always been in the eyes of a killer.

  But this is Bonnie. I know her.

  She couldn’t be a killer, could she?

  Come to think of it, I know Scott, too.

  She shrugs before pulling her fruity looking cocktail to her lips. “Stacy and Scott were hammering away at her, yelling as if they were right back at the ranch. Scott has always had it in for her.”

  Everett leans in. “Stacy was yelling at her, too?”

  “Oh yeah.” Bonnie dabs her lips with a napkin and slightly smears her lipstick, and it gives her a crazed look that no woman is after. “It’s a common occurrence at the ranch. I do the books, so I’m in the office and hear the whole thing. They like to let loose on one another about three or four times a week. It didn’t help that Tamara and Scott were still in and out of the house. It was truly a toxic working environment. I hate to say it, but a part of me is relieved it’s over.”

  Everett swills the beer in his hand. “I bet that’s why you needed someplace like this to turn to. I find playing a hand of blackjack relaxing myself.”

  She barks out a laugh. “You betcha. I knew I liked you.” She snuggles up beside him, and I’m tempted to knock her drink over.

  “So what do you usually play?” I ask, trying to steer the direction back to the topic at hand—her.

  “Slots mostly. But I like blackjack, too.” She giggles over at Everett and my tolerance for this interrogation is quickly waning. “You know, I’m pretty good at it, too. Last year I won enough to take a trip to Atlantic City. Oh, they’ve got miles and miles of glorious slots machines in every shape and size.” Her eyes grow swirly as if she were hypnotized. She turns my way. “And if you really want to play craps, you should come with me on my next trip. They’ve got tables to die for.”

  Noel howls over at her, “Ask if Tamara ever went with her.”

  “Good question,” I say, inspiring a confused look from Bonnie. “I mean, I have a question. Did Tamara ever join you?”

  Her eyes grow wide again. “No. Let’s just say she didn’t exactly approve of my—hobby. Some people can be such prudes.” She makes a face before draining the rest of her drink and motioning for the bartender to deliver another.

  Everett leans in close to her, shoulder to shoulder, as if he were flirting himself, and I’ll admit that a part of me is a bit jealous that she’s getting all that glorious Baxter body heat to herself.

  “Just as a theory”—he starts—“let’s say Scott didn’t send Tamara to her death. Who do you think could have done it?”

  Bonnie swallows audibly, prompting both Everett and me to exchange a glance.

  Noel hobbles my way. “She’s acting strangely, Lottie. I’m afraid Stacy might be right. Bonnie Dupre is guilty as sin.”

  I twist my lips over at him. We shall see.

  The bartender slides another fruity concoction her way and she pulls it in. “Yes, Scott had a reason to push her off that embankment. I can see why he’d want all of his problems solved, but to be honest, he’s a smart man. He would have known it would have brought far more legal troubles than the trouble he was already in. That’s why I don’t think he did it.”

  I suck in a quick breath. “But don’t you think he was worked up in a rage?”

  “Not really. He was just blowing off steam. Trust me when I say he’s learned to rein it in before it gets out of hand.” She looks my way. “You do realize Scott wasn’t the only one who was angry with Tamara that night.”

  “You mean Stacy.” I nod as if affirming this. Although it was really the other way around. It was Tamara who was fuming at Stacy. Personally, I’m surprised it wasn’t Stacy at the bottom of that cliff.

  Bonnie shakes her head. “I mean Joyce.”

  “Joyce was angry with Tamara?” I inch back, uncertain if I heard right. “Tamara’s personal trainer? The perky brunette? She seemed ready to defend her, not kill her.”

  Bonnie rolls her eyes. “Let’s just say they have a thorny history together. A few years back they opened up the first of a few boutique type gyms that cater to women. Maybe you’ve heard of them? Swerve the Curve?”

  “Oh, I think I have heard of them,” I say. “They have one out in Fallbrook, right?”

  She nods. “And two in Hollyhock. Anyway, it was always Joyce’s dream, and Tamara came in as the financial brawn. But things went south just last week. Apparently, Tamara made Joyce a lowball offer to buy her out, and when Joyce refused, Tamara hired some fancy lawyer to make it happen. Joyce was fuming. In fact, the night of the murder, I had to ask her to put off the confrontation she was determined to have with her until after the holidays.” Her lips twitch as if there’s more to the story but she isn’t about to share it. “Joyce is power-hungry—a control freak. You just have to be around her for five minutes to know that. And she’ll do anything to protect that power.”

  Power-hungry. The words swill in my mind long after she says them.

  Everett and I wrap it up with Bonnie. I even invite her to my mother’s speed dating event at the B&B next weekend, and she agrees to give it a shot. Everett and I watch as Bonnie takes off, more than eager to say goodbye to us as she hits the slots.

  Noel follows Everett and me outside of the establishment where the snow is still softly sifting its way to earth, and I take up Everett’s hand in the event Noel decides to share his t
houghts again.

  “Well, Lottie?” Noel prances between Everett and me. “We’ve got a killer, haven’t we? It’s this Joyce person! I say we find her and tie her to a tree so the wolves can ravage her.”

  Everett and I share an amused smile.

  “Ixnay to the wolves,” I say. “I like life outside of prison just fine.”

  Everett nods. “And I quite like my view in the courtroom. So what’s next with the investigation?”

  “I think maybe Keelie and I need to think about getting in shape before the man in the red suit tries to fill my stocking.”

  A naughty gleam takes over Everett’s eyes. “I’ve got something to put in your stocking.”

  “Everett.” I laugh while swatting him on the chest.

  “What? I happen to have a gift for you.” A sly grin glides up one side of his face. “And technically, it could easily fit in the smallest of stockings. But you’ll have to wait until Christmas morning to open it.”

  “Everett.” My voice is far less abrasive, and instead of swatting him, I hug his arm. “You really are the sweetest.”

  He shrugs. “I’ll keep the red suit on standby that night in the event you don’t get what you want. I’ve got a bag of treats you can dip into anytime you want.”

  “Why do I get the feeling this bag of treats is in your bedroom?”

  “Because you know me well, and you happen to have a very dirty mind.”

  “Why do I get the feeling that’s the part of me you like best?”

  “Because you’re intuitive.”

  I laugh into the night as Everett and I head back to his car and back to Honey Hollow.

  But I can’t seem to get my mind off Tamara—and the mounting number of people who might have wanted her dead.

  Chapter 6

  The Swerve and Curve Gym in Hollyhock just so happens to be the exact place where I was able to track down Joyce Calypso.

  Okay, so a bit of cyberstalking might have been involved. It took less than a day to follow all of her social media pages, only to figure out that she was regularly checking in her locations. And it turns out, she’s spending the afternoon teaching a class at this location. A class that both Keelie and I loathe to participate in.