Another scream rips from me as I try to lunge for it, but it jumps down the counter and heads straight over to Noah where it runs up his shoulder before bouncing onto his head.
I aim that broom for Noah’s head while screaming as if my hair were on fire. I do my level best to swat it off of Noah’s face and Noah does his best to deflect my every move as he lets a couple of salty expletives fly.
“Lemon,” Everett riots. “Keep it up. He’s still standing.”
“Everett,” Noah barks. “It’s not funny. Get that thing away from her.” He tries to duck, but I continue to do my best to shoo that rodent off of him.
Sure enough, the little furball jumps up on the island, threading its way around the candles, and I bat at it, inadvertently setting the tip of the bristles aflame.
Carlotta is screaming, too—albeit with laughter—while Everett and Noah take a defensive position as they try to coax me into giving up my flaming weapon.
The tiny mouse leaps from the counter and right onto Everett’s chest as I swing the broom his way, leaving a trail of sparks in my wake.
Everett lets a few expletives fly himself as he jumps out of the way.
“What the hell is going on, Lemon?” he shouts, trying to get ahold of the broom, but I lift it out of his grasp.
“MOUUUUUSSSE!” The word streams from my throat as sharp as a razor as I swat and swing just as the mouse jumps my way and lands right—through me—leaving a plume of red and green miniature stars trailing after it. “Oh my God.” I gasp as the rest of the broom lights up like a flame thrower, and I quickly toss it to my left—inadvertently directly onto a rack of dishtowels, and the entire thing goes up in flames like a Roman candle.
Noah quickly grabs the fire extinguisher and does his best to put it out while Everett pulls me away from the fiery ground zero.
“Lemon”—his chest flexes wildly as he pants my name out—“I didn’t see a mouse.”
Noah comes over with his hair mussed and his suit in disarray. “I didn’t either,” he says as he struggles to catch his breath.
“Well, I did,” Carlotta says with a greasy grin on her face. “And I can testify that thing was one hundred percent dead as a Christmas doornail.”
“A ghost.” I nod.
“That’s right,” Noah says. “And that means one thing.”
Everett glances out to the crowd just past the kitchen. “It means a killer is afoot.”
The snow is falling, the carolers are singing, and it’s beginning to look a lot like murder.
Chapter 2
The Jingle Hop Ball is going full swing as Noah, Everett, and I set the last of the eggnog trifles onto the dessert table.
That little mystic mouse that nearly caused me to burn down the Evergreen Manor has the three of us on tactical alert for the next potential homicide hidden in our midst.
Noah is already on the phone with his partner at the homicide division, Detective Ivy Fairbanks.
“Yes, I have a hunch you’ll be needed.” His voice is rough as he talks into his phone. “Look, Ivy, you need to get down here right away. I’ve already called for extra patrol.” He glances my way. “Yes, Lottie is here.” He offers an uneasy smile my way, and I distinctly hear a female voice from the other end of the line say, “Oh, for Pete’s sake.”
He holds up the phone. “She’s on her way.” Noah sweeps the crowded room with a glance. “I’m going to do a quick inspection of the grounds. Everett, do not leave Lottie’s side. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He points my way. “We’re going to nip this one in the bud. I promise you, this isn’t going to ruin the holidays.” He takes off, and I can feel myself beginning to spiral out of control.
“What is he talking about?” I shake my head at the crowd. The entire room seems to be spinning in dizzying circles as the chipper holiday tune blares overhead. “This is most definitely going to ruin the holidays—especially for the victim, as murder often does.”
Everett pulls me in close, and soon I’m ensconced with the heady scent of his cologne.
“Listen to me, Lemon. Keeping both you and our baby healthy and happy is my number one priority. How about we leave early and let Noah and Ivy take this one?”
“Not to sound rude, but Noah and Ivy haven’t taken one since either of them has set foot in the homicide division.”
It’s true. There has been one murder after the next in Honey Hollow for the last couple of years, and those ghosts that come back from the other side have helped me solve each and every case.
I’m not an official investigator or anything like that, but for whatever reason, my transmundane abilities, further classified as supersensual, enable me to see past the rainbow bridge. When I was younger and I began to see those fantastic phantasms, it used to mean nothing more than a scraped knee for those that the otherworldly beings came around for. But as of late, it always means a murder is afoot.
The ghosts are always either a person or a furry creature that the victim once loved deeply. Sometimes I see the ghost of someone who was once a living, breathing human being, and other times it’s the beloved pet that has long since passed.
I’m guessing that the cute little mouse I inadvertently tried to set aflame falls into the latter category.
And I know I didn’t regard him as oh-so-cute a few minutes ago when I beat both Noah and Everett senseless with a broom, but now that I realize the tiny furball is most likely not a carrier of the bubonic plague—or anything else that could harm my unborn child—I’m more than totally fine with it.
“Hey, I just thought of something,” I say as I look into Everett Baxter’s daring blue eyes. “I was trying to get rid of that mouse because deep down I thought it could somehow harm the baby.” My hand lands protectively over my bourgeoning tummy. “Maybe I will be a good mother, after all.” I’m sure most women don’t debate the idea internally, but let’s be honest, I’m a cadaver magnet who has had a major string of bad luck as of late—not to mention my penchant for sleeping with two men. I’d say the odds of making Mother of the Year are pretty much stacked against me.
“Lemon, you’re already a great mother to Evie.” His brows pinch in the middle, and he only looks that much more caustically handsome. Everett is slow to smile and exudes enough testosterone for ten men. His body is fit enough to play the green on any given Sunday, and God Almighty, does this man ever know what to do with his body, and more importantly with mine underneath the sheets. “I think I know how to get your mind off of all of this.” His lids hood as a devilish gleam dances in his eyes, and he leans in and whispers the naughtiest things I believe I have ever heard in my entire life.
My cheeks burn with heat as my mouth rounds out with both surprise and approval.
“Judge Baxter, you make sure the first thing you put together in our new rental home tomorrow is that bed. We’re going to christen that house in exactly the manner you just described.” Suffice it to say, it’s been a long, dry season for the both of us while staying at Noah’s.
Noah graciously gave us his bedroom, mostly because I might be having his child and also because Everett risked his life to rescue him from a burning building. But by and large, Noah and Everett haven’t gotten along in years. They were once stepbrothers, and during their familial internment, Noah saw fit to steal Everett’s girlfriend. Things only went downhill from there. Now they tolerate one another for my sake.