A choking sound emits from me. “I see how it goes. Your mother gets a free pass as a murder suspect while I had to endure spending Thanksgiving night on a hard, cold bench in the processing area, instead of stuffing my face with pie. Do you realize I could be cooking up a baby Fox in my belly? Doesn’t that purchase an ounce of mercy from you? I used to think so. But judging by the way you’re about to let a potential murderer off the hook, merely due to the fact she pushed you from her loins, then I think not.”
I tread my way through the snow, past Everett, who quickly, and might I add wisely, abandons his post at Suze’s side. We’re about to head back into the open maw of the kitchen when I spot that honey-haired man, Chris Holiday, standing a few feet away from my bakery van with his arms crossed over his chest. He’s glaring at the crime scene as if it offended him on some level, and I waste no time in heading over.
“Did you see something?” I call out his way.
“Lemon”—Everett whispers—“we’re letting Noah take this one, remember?”
Chris glances our way. “I just stepped outside to get some air and spotted that older blonde.” He does a double take in my direction. “And come to think of it, I spotted you, too. That gunshot sent me running this way right along with the sheriff’s department. Hey, you’re not responsible for this, are you?” There’s a flicker of something playful in his eyes as if perhaps he doesn’t mean the words.
“No, she’s not,” Everett answers for me, and soon he’s navigated us right back into the ballroom where we run into both Carlotta and my mother.
“Miranda”—Everett gently hands me off to her—“do not let her out of your sight. I need to find Dr. Barnette,” he grits it through his teeth as he bolts into the thick of the bodies still moving and grooving to the tune of “Jingle Bell Rock”. Each one of them seems hopelessly oblivious to the fact a tragedy just unfolded.
“What’s the matter, Lottie?” Mom panics in an instant. Her creamy blond hair bounces around her shoulders, and I can’t help but note she’s donned the exact naughty Mrs. Claus sequin number that the victim was wearing.
Carlotta leans in. “I recognize that homicidal gleam in your eyes, Lot. You found another one, didn’t you?”
Evie pops up from behind her. “Do not freaking mess with me, Mom,” she spits it out like a reprimand. “If you found another body and didn’t bother to invite me to the killer party, I will never forgive you.”
My mouth opens to say something, say anything when a sharp scream cuts through the air.
“There’s been a murder!” a female voice shrills, and all eyes travel in that direction as every person in the room ceases to move.
It’s Cormack at the center of the melee, as she starts in on an aria of screams once again. And soon enough, another familiar blonde gloms onto her. It’s Cormack’s wicked bestie, Cressida Bentley, Evie’s biological egg donor—aka her birth mother.
Within minutes, the entire room is whipped up in a murderous frenzy, and before I can defuse my mother and Evie from spiraling out of control, both Cormack and Cressida are upon us.
“You did this!” Cormack wags a red lacquered fingernail my way. “Don’t tell me you have nothing to do with this, Lainey!”
Mom sucks in a quick breath. “Lottie, what does your sister have to do with any of this?”
“Nothing,” I say as I glare over at the blonde featherhead before me. “Cormack doesn’t have the wherewithal to remember the fact my name is Lottie,” I snip it out in the direction of the ditz before us. It’s true. Both Cormack and Cressida outright refuse to call me by my given name, mostly because they’re a couple of socialite bullies.
Evie scoffs. “Mom! You did it to me again!”
Cressida pulls her over to their side, and to my shock Evie willingly stands between Cormack and Cressida. Both blondes have donned a red skimpy dress and heels that I’m sure cost more than the worth of the entire Evergreen Manor, and even with those pricey stilettos pressed to their feet, Evie towers over the both of them.
Cressida growls my way, “I’ve had about enough of you!”
“Me too!” Cormack shouts.
“Me too!” Evie echoes to my horror, and the three of them stalk off in the direction of the kitchen.
Both of my sisters, Lainey and Meg, appear in their place.
Meg has long black hair and icy blue eyes, and Lainey looks like she could be my full-blooded sister with her caramel hair and hazel eyes. I used to think my parents got the details of my adoption wrong and that it was Meg who was the odd Lemon out—but, alas, it was me.
Meg has got on a pair of silver pants and matching bustier. She’s definitely the moodier sister, with her eyes ringed with black kohl and her matching dark lipstick. She used to work the wrestling circuit down in Vegas, but now she teaches the women down at the gentlemen’s club in the next town over their dicey moneymaking moves. She’s been helping out with the Honey Pot Diner as of late, too.
Lainey looks perfectly prim and proper in a velvet blue dress that happens to look like a twin to mine. Come to think of it, this might have been a power move on my mother’s behalf in an effort to get her girls to dress alike even though we’re well into our twenties. I’m sure she knew there was no hope of Meg joining in on the matchy match fun, but Lainey and I are still pretty much suckers for just about any shenanigans my mother has to offer. Lainey happens to work as the head librarian at the Honey Hollow Public Library. And if I wasn’t a baker, I’d be right there with her.
“Are you kidding me, Lottie?” Lainey looks peeved. “I left the baby tonight for the first time since I had her. And now I’ve come to find out you’ve called another killer to the scene?” She starts to beat me on the arm with her sparkly red purse until Meg plucks her away. “How dare you take down date night!”
Meg is laughing so hard, tears are streaming down her face. “Forest is back there talking to Hook. I’d better give Lainey back to her handler.” They take off for their respective plus ones. Lainey and Forest have been married for a while. He’s the love of her life, and no one has cheered them on more than me. And Hook Redwood is Meg’s longtime boyfriend. He’s basically Honey Hollow’s version of the Wolf of Wall Street. He and Meg are sort of an odd pairing, but hey, it works.
“Oh, Lottie”—Mom steps in front of me—“something terrible has happened.”
“The murder, yes, I know.” I press a hand to my chest just trying to process it all.
“No, not that.” She waves me off. “My latest book isn’t doing so well. Rumor has it, my publisher is thinking of dropping me.”
“What?” I squawk in disbelief. My mother writes raunchy fiction under the nom de plume Mirandy Lemonade, and she just had the second book in her Reckless series come out a couple of months ago. “Mom, you’re sleeping with your publisher.”
Carlotta chuckles. “Talk about having an in with the boss.”
It’s true. My mother’s publisher is Noah’s dicey father, Wiley Fox. He once faked his death after stealing a bundle from God knows how many poor unsuspecting widows. He did it to Everett’s mother, Eliza. I’m shocked Everett let Wiley live once he magically resurrected himself a year or so ago.