17. Lottie
LOTTIE
Girls’ Group Chat
Lottie: Alright, ladies, last chance! What are we doing for cake? Or do I just surprise you both?
Meg: Let there be donuts.
Sam: Let there be cake.
Lottie: Now that’s something I can work with.
Lainey: I’m suddenly having a craving for donuts and cake.
Charlie: I’ve got a few surprises of the savory variety for our brides. I promise a delicious night to remember.
Keelie: Lottie is usually the one who makes it a night to remember—by adding a corpse to the mix. Lot, you really know how to party.
N oah and I arrive at the Love-is-in-the-Air Valentine’s Festival, and it looks as if Cupid took a nosedive into a vat of glitter and sprinkles, then exploded over Hollyhock.
Everywhere we look there are pink tents, red heart-shaped balloons, and people wearing wings as if they’re about to morph into arrow-wielding cherubs themselves.
I sent Everett a text before we left Venus’ scrumptious shop, and he let me know he was already on his way up to Hollyhock hoping to catch up to us. It turns out, his only case for the day was canceled. So I let him know he could meet us at the festival, and in typical Everett style, he beat us here by a mile.
The three of us walk along as Noah pushes Lyla Nell and we see there’s a stage set up with something called a Win Her Heart challenge. It takes less than two seconds for it to catch Noah’s and Everett’s attention.
“I’m in,” Noah says without the luxury of having all the details.
Everett nods. “And I’m going to have to beat you.”
“I swear, the two of you just can’t resist a chance to prove that you’re basically cavemen under the guise of romance,” I tease before reading the banner next to the sign-up table. It says something about a physical obstacle course involving heart-shaped hoops and a giant cupcake toss. “Wow,” I muse. “Nothing says I love you like launching baked goods at a target.”
Noah shrugs. “That’s essentially what we did back at Venus’ place, and in that case, the target was our mouths.”
I nod. “And we sure as heck didn’t miss.” I poke my finger into Everett’s chest. “You missed a good time. We’ll have to go back—and often.”
“It’s a date.” He winks my way and sneaks a kiss to my temple. He nods to the giant cupcake toss and gives Noah a look. “We’d better go sign on the dotted line. I’d hate to pass up a chance to watch you lose.”
“After you,” Noah says. “I’ve been waiting to shove a giant cupcake in your face for some time now.”
They speed off toward the venue and take Lyla Nell with them.
“I’d say break a leg, but knowing how competitive the two of you can get, I’m afraid you’d do it,” I call out after them.
I spot a booth with a chocolate fountain right next door, and just as my feet are about to lead me to a chocolaty paradise, Carlotta jumps in my path and nearly scares all that love potion cake right out of me—but not my desire for liquid chocolate. Nothing can scare that anywhere.
She’s bundled in one of my priciest red wool coats, her cheeks are covered in powdered sugar, her lips are stained bright pink from what I can only assume was an ungodly amount of frosting, and she’s wearing a headband over her noggin with a couple of red sparkling hearts that bounce around on springs.
“It’s about time you got here, Lot. You will not believe the fun I’ve had with Sugarplum Sassy Pants.”
“You mean Shelly?” Although you never know with Carlotta. She could be talking about a turtle for all I know.
“Yup, the Donut Diva is right over there, flexing her foodie taste-testing muscle.” She points to a booth behind me.
“Sugarplum Sassy Pants, the Donut Diva? How does she feel about being hosed down with all these quasi-delicious nicknames?”
Not everyone gets Carlotta’s sense of humor. I’ve been around her for years, and I’m still not sure if I should laugh or be insulted. Half the nicknames she hurls my way sort of require both.
“Please.” Carlotta waves a dismissive hand. “She loves it. We’re practically soul sisters now. We’ve eaten our way through half this festival already, and let me tell you, it’s been worth every carb and calorie.”
“Tell me more,” I say as I hold my belly, because let’s face it, I’m so ready to dive deeper into the culinary side of this calorie-laden day.
Carlotta gives a wicked grin. “First, we started with delicious deep-fried strawberry cheesecake bites. You should really look into stealing that recipe. They were like biting into a cloud made of sugar, with just enough tang to make you see strawberry-shaped stars. And let’s not forget the giant cotton candy hearts, spun right in front of us by a guy wearing a Cupid bowtie and not much else.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Now that’s what I call customer service.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“I try.” She gives a solemn nod. “Oh, and Snickerdoodle Shelly, bless her sugar-sweet heart, had about three dozen of those Cupid’s kisses cupcakes that are going quicker than a one-night stand on prom night. They’re red velvet with a spicy cinnamon kick in the pants. She actually cried a little. Said it reminded her of some long-lost love. I think it was the heartburn, but hey, whatever floats her boat.”
“More info, please.” I mean about my next suspect, but I won’t stop her from spinning another sweet tale if she wants. The twins seem at rapt attention, too.
“Then we moved on to an entire trough filled with red velvet truffle hearts,” she continues. Truffles? Carlotta does not disappoint.
“Those things were like popping pure bliss in your pie hole,” she goes on. “And speaking of pies, I want a red velvet truffle pie out of you by midnight, young lady.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, more than eager to please—mostly myself. Obviously, Carlotta just had a culinary stroke of genius, and who am I to turn down that kind of mouthwatering goodness?
“I could have eaten a hundred of them.” Carlotta pats her belly at the memory. “Sweet and Sassy Shelly tried to outdo me, but you and I both know who the queen of truffles is. And I’m darn proud to say I reign supreme.” She sheds a short-lived smile at the sky. “Then we had the most tastiest treat of them all— chocolate-dipped bacon roses . After a cool dozen, I was transported to sweet and savory heaven. I nearly proposed to the guy running the stand.”
“Well, I guess it’s true what they say. Love is in the air—and so is bacon.” I crane my neck past her. “Unfortunately, so is murder. Lead me to Shelly Everly. I’d like to have a word with her before she falls into a chocolate coma.”
“This way, Lot,” Carlotta says, hooking her arm through mine. “It’s your lucky day because she just so happens to be at the most delicious booth of them all.”
“My lucky day, indeed,” I say, patting my belly.
But for one elusive killer, their luck is about to run out.