Let’s hope the sleepwalking stint he had during his adolescent years comes back to serve him well. If anyone can put enough doubt into that jury’s mind next month, it’s the shark he’s hired to defend himself, Fiona Dagmeyer.
I pull out my phone and quickly shoot a text to Lottie to make sure she’s safe and hopefully at home by now.
She texts right back. I’m fine! I’m home. Carlotta, Evie, Everett, and I are eating everything we can find in the kitchen. Come join the midnight madness. I’ll save a cruller for you.
My heart warms just knowing Lottie and the baby are safe.
My baby.
I’m convinced of it. Or at least I was up until I realized this baby will be here in just a few short weeks. I guess I can’t live in my delusions forever.
The truth will be here soon enough. And if that’s Everett’s child, I’ll have to accept it. But I know myself all too well. It’s going to be a tough pill to swallow. Usually I can put up a good front when I need to. I’m just not sure how I’ll fare in this scenario.
I let Lottie know I’m out in Ashford but that I’ll see her tomorrow.
Lottie has no idea about the big surprise set out for her in the afternoon. And considering it’s at her mother’s old B&B, I’m hoping there won’t be too much drama. But considering the fact Cormack and Cressida are at the helm of the crazy train, I don’t see how it can be avoided.
The station is buzzing. It’s far too bright in here for this late hour, but the bustle at the sheriff’s department never seems to die down as of late no matter what the time.
I head over to the homicide division, where I find the exact two people I was hoping to see, and they both happen to have their heads knit together as they examine a cache of photos.
Ivy’s lips pucker at the sight of me.
“No.” She gets back to the pictures from the crime scene already sprawled out over her desk.
Sheriff Jack Turner straightens as he looks my way. He’s tall, barrel-chested, and has more salt than pepper in his hair these days. I’d like to think we’ve grown to be friends over the last few years I’ve worked here, and I do believe that’s true. He happens to be the father of Lottie’s best friend, Keelie, and I think a lot of the kindness and mercy he’s shown me over the years is somehow tied to his affection for Lottie. After her own father passed away, I know that Jack stepped in and was like a father to her as well.
“Noah.” He shakes his head, that mournful look on his face letting me know this probably wasn’t a great idea. “It’s late, Noah. And you don’t belong here.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I say it as kindly as possible. “I do belong here. Lift the suspension. Get me back at my desk. Nobody around here knows the victims like I did. I played ball with Owen. I took Jasmine to the homecoming dance when we were kids. I know how their minds worked. And I know the circle of friends that surrounded them, too. I realize it’s a long shot, but I’d bet money I know the killer. I’m an asset in this case.”
The sheriff blows out a breath as he looks to Ivy and they share a quick nod.
“I can’t lift your suspension, Noah,” he says. “That unfortunately needs to run its course. The review is almost up, and it’s looking as if it’s in your favor. But in the meantime, I don’t see why you couldn’t act as a character witness in an effort to aid the case. Consider yourself unofficially on the case. But”—he holds up a finger just as a rocket of relief shoots through me—“try to remember you’ve been suspended without pay. Any minute you give to the department will be of your own time. And seeing that you’re expecting a child, perhaps”—he shakes his head at that one—“I’d help Lottie get things ready for the baby if I were you.”
“I will. But I’m doing this, too. This is in my blood. It’s who I am. And these were my friends. This is personal. I’d do it without pay every day of the week.”
“Good.” He flexes a quick smile. “You’ll have to.”
“What have we got?” I look down at the crime scene photos. “Did you run an ID on the gun?”
Ivy nods. “It belonged to Judge Owen Kellerman.”
My blood runs cold a moment. “Any prints?”
“None.” Ivy slides a photo of the snow my way. “What do you make of this?”
“Sloppy footprints,” I whisper. “You don’t get that from running. Whoever fled the scene knew they wanted to cover their tracks. This was no heated argument that got carried away. Whoever did this was plotting it, and plotting their escape. They had access to his gun, too.”
“Maybe,” Ivy says. “Or perhaps the weapon was pulled on them and they won it in a struggle? They could have thought to smear their footprints as they fled the scene. We can’t be sure it was premeditated at this point—or if Kellerman’s gun was fired at all.”
I’d bet money it was, but I’m not saying a word right now. I like to show more than I like to tell.
We wrap it up and agree to get back to it in the morning.
I take off for Honey Hollow with an ounce of optimism for my life—first time since my arrest a few weeks back.
I wish Everett felt the same. If they convict him for something I wrangled us into, I will never forgive myself. Yes, I want Lottie. Yes, I want that baby to be mine. I want Everett to go the hell away, but not like this.
Nope.
It shouldn’t happen like this. Everett and I should never have been vying for the same woman once again. But it’s happened. And Lottie belongs to me as much as she does to Everett. I wouldn’t be so sure of it if it wasn’t for Lottie’s grandmother Nell. She came back to Lottie around the same time Lottie conceived and let her know that she has not one but two soulmates—and that I was one of them.
Sure, most people wouldn’t see that as great news. But I sure as heck did. Lottie and I were together long before Everett dug his claws into her—even though he was there from the very beginning priming her, wearing her down with his unstoppable charm.
I frown out the windshield as I pull onto Country Cottage Road, the cul-de-sac where I’ve lived the last few years—the best years of my life if I’m honest. The lights are on across the street from my place. That’s where Lottie and Everett have their new rental. I drive past the two plots of land where Lottie and Everett’s old houses burned to the ground, and I still get a chill thinking about that night.
A silver sedan sits parked on my side of the street and my antennae go off at the sight of it.
It’s well after midnight. I don’t recognize the car. Maybe someone from the reunion floated over? The headlights kick on and the car fires up in an instant. I speed ahead to get a look at the driver before I’m blinded by headlights, and sure enough, as they whiz by, I spot a woman with caramel waves—same hair as Lottie, maybe a touch darker. My heart thumps wildly as I pull into my garage.
Who the heck was that?
And more importantly, what did she want?
Everett
Snow. Lots of it.
I shake my head as I wave Lemon, Carlotta, and Evie off as they head for the bakery. It’s Sunday morning, the sun has broken loose up above, and if you try your best, you might see a hint of blue skies.