3. Lottie
LOTTIE
“ Y ou do realize this means murder,” Noah growls as if he’s not pleased with the prospect. In truth, none of us are.
I glance down at the cinnamon-colored poodle, and she up and disappears in a spray of miniature pink and red stars.
Just great.
Each time I see one of those pesky poltergeists, it’s always a harbinger of lethal things to come. But on the bright side, they do tend to stick around long enough to help solve the case—and eat their way through half my bakery.
Come to think of it, I’d better up production.
But desserts aside, nobody is happy about what’s about to happen next.
“Murder?” Carlotta leaps and clicks her heels midair. And I stand corrected. “Yippee! This yawn of a night is about to take a turn for the deadly, and that’s always a party.” She claps her hands. “So who’s up next, Lot? I say it’s time we show ol’ Cranky Pants Naomi to the eternal exit.” She rubs her hands with glee, and there’s more than a naughty gleam in her eye.
“Carlotta,” I snip as the Heartstrings and Sweet Things Valentine’s Day Spectacular rages around us right here in the Evergreen Manor ballroom. “Might I remind you, Naomi is your niece!”
“I don’t need reminding,” she snips back. “That little twerp has been getting on my nerves for the last thirty years.”
“She’s just a hair under thirty,” I point out.
“I said what I said,” she barks back. “Now put in that order to your boss at the death factory and let’s get this funeral rolling.”
Good grief. Although… I am filled with far too many hormones, and Naomi Turner has danced along my last raw nerve.
Before any of us can say a word regarding murder in general or Carlotta’s familial homicidal intentions, a trio of small children, I’d say all under six, runs between us laughing and screaming as they practically lunge onto the dessert table, and each one ends up with a cookie in each hand. Mostly chocolate chip cookies and my double fudge brookies—a combination cookie and brownie.
Good choices. I don’t know what I would have done had they snapped up a conversation heart sugar cookie with a dicey saying on it. I’d better mine through those and pick them out for now. I had no idea there were children here.
The three of them are so adorable—two little blonde girls and a little redheaded boy with hair the color of fall leaves. Okay, so it’s orange. It’s flat-out orange like the fruit. I’ve never seen such bright-colored locks. It’s perfectly adorable on him, and it’s taking everything in me not to squeeze him.
“Oh my goodness.” A tall blonde who looks somewhere in her thirties, with bright green eyes and an easy smile, swoops in after them and does her best to pull them close. She’s wearing a pink velour gown that touches the floor, and it looks perfectly scrumptious. I would so wear that dress myself. That is, if I had a waist. “Please excuse my children.” She laughs.
“These are your kids?” Carlotta scoffs as she inspects each one. “All three?” The woman nods and Carlotta wrinkles her nose. “What’s with Captain Cheddar? How did the other two survive the redheaded fire?”
“ Carlotta ,” Everett says with more than a twinge of disappointment in his voice.
“Please excuse her.” I cringe at the woman. “She’s still recovering from her self-induced lobotomy.”
“But I really want to know,” Carlotta goes on. “It’s obvious Big Red is the father of this one, but who are the other two daddies?”
Noah holds a hand up. “Don’t answer that.” He offers an affable smile to the woman. “I think I’ve seen you around the precinct. You’re Deputy Sean Finnigan’s wife.”
“That I am.” She laughs. “Venus Finnigan,” she says, nodding to us all. “I’m the owner of Cupid’s Sweet Concoctions. I have a café out in Hollyhock where I sell every sweet treat under the sun. I also sell glazes, frostings, toppings, sprinkles, flavor-infused syrups, and even romance-inspired baking kits. You name it, and I’ve practically got it.”
“That sounds amazing,” I tell her.
The music switches to a bouncy pop song, and the kids begin to hop and shout all at once.
“Oh, I’d better take them to their father,” Venus grunts. “If they get any more sweets in them tonight, I’ll have to peel them off the ceiling.”
Noah cranes his neck past her. “I see Sean next to the dance floor. I can take them over. Feel free to chat with Lottie. She has a popular bakery here in town.”
“Really?” She glances in the direction Noah is looking, and sure enough, there’s a redheaded man with locks just as bright as the little boy in front of us. “Oh, thank you so much. I’d appreciate that.”
“Not a problem,” Noah says, giving Everett a stern look. “I’ve been meaning to contact the sheriff’s department about an impending incident anyway. Come on, kids.” Noah rounds up the children and herds them away. “Let’s head over to Dad.”
Everett pins his blue eyes to mine. “I’m going to have a talk with the security team here at the manor. Don’t move, Lemon.” He takes off, and I offer the blonde before me a tight smile.
“I’m Lottie, and this lobotomized lunatic is my biological mother, Carlotta. Did you say your name was Venus?”
“So nice to meet you both.” She quickly shakes our hands. “And yes, my mother was and still very much is a happy-go-lucky hippie. She says I was born under the planetary alignment of passion, and I’ve been explaining my name away for the last thirty-five years because of it.”
We share a quick laugh along with her.
“Happy-go-lucky hippies are my favorite kind of people.” Carlotta gives a goofy grin to prove her point. “I named Lot Lot after myself. Then I had another Little Yippy and named her after myself, too. It’s just easier to remember that way.”
Venus’ jaw squares out because clearly, she doesn’t know what to do with this information.
“I go by the nickname Lottie,” I’m quick to tell her. “And my sister goes by Charlie. All’s well that ends well in Carlotta Land.” I cringe for a moment. “Actually, the Carlotta madness didn’t end there. I named my daughter Carlotta, too, but she goes by Lyla Nell.”
Venus belts out a laugh. “And how about the new babies? Will they be Carlotta, too? I mean, if you’re going to give the baby a nickname, I guess you can name it Carlotta regardless of gender.”
“They’re twins, and I don’t know what we’re going to call them. And at the rate I’m going, I may never know. But let’s talk about your fabulous baking company! Like Noah said, I’ve got a bakery, and I’m interested in hearing all about your products. And what a great name Cupid’s Sweet Concoctions is.”
A boxy brunette and a tall man with silver hair step in close. She’s wearing a red sparkling gown, and he’s donned a silver suit that matches his hair. Although he doesn’t look too much older than fifty. Neither does she.
“Yes, what a clever name you have,” the brunette says while offering a snide smile to Venus. “How ever did you think of it?”
“It is unique .” The man with the silver hair narrows his eyes on Venus. “As is your own name. Such a fitting name for a woman who likes to play with fire. Just make sure you don’t get burned.”
A moment of thick silence slices by, and a shiver runs up my spine.
“I wouldn’t play with anything.” The brunette nods and huffs a little laugh. “After all, Cupid’s arrows can be deadly.”