27. Lottie
LOTTIE
T o say my brief detour to Leeds turned into an exercise in exhaustion is like saying Honey Lake is a bit damp.
Since Noah drove himself this evening, he took off to pick up something from Mangias for us to nibble on back at the house while Everett and I picked up Lyla Nell.
By the time we meet back at the house, the lights are on, Noah has a fire going, and he lets me know he’s fed the cats, along with Toby.
“And you’ve done something else,” I say, following my nose into the kitchen where he has a veritable feast fit for an Italian king.
“Oh my word.” I drop my purse to the floor as I magnetize toward the island that just so happens to be filled with every single one of my favorite dishes from that bellissimo eatery. “Three large pizzas?” I marvel as I ogle the buffet sprawled out before me. Pepperoni, sausage, and pineapple and Canadian bacon, too—it’s a new thing I’m into, and I think the twins are playing a part in that. “A full sheet of lasagna and a tray of chicken marsala!” I groan hard as I name each of them. “Osso buco, chicken parmesan, fettuccine Alfredo, focaccia bread, and gnocchi. Noah, you really are a man after my heart.”
Everett steps into the kitchen after landing Lyla Nell in her bed and his chest expands at the sight before us. “Looks like someone worked up an appetite at the strip joint.” He shoots Noah an amused look as he says it.
“Very funny,” Noah grunts as we all load up our plates.
Carlotta and Sweetheart come in on our heels and they do the very same thing. Or more to the point, Carlotta is nice enough to do it for our ghostly guest.
“Can you believe in twenty-four hours we’ll be smack in the middle of a double wedding?” I say as I waddle out of the kitchen with my plate piled high with enough Italian savory delights to feed a small island nation. “Of course, I’ve still got those wedding cakes on my mind. But don’t you worry, I’ve got a little surprise for our brides. It’s more or less done, but it still needs to be put together. My team is finishing up with the rest of the sweet treats and I still need to go in early to put the finishing touches on everything before we head to Fallbrook to take Ava and Olivia out to brunch.”
“It sounds like it’s going to be a full and perfect day,” Noah says.
A sigh escapes me. “It would be if we could catch a killer. I can’t believe whoever shot an arrow through the hearts of those two people is still prancing around on the planet—and they might just be prancing around right here in Honey Hollow.”
“Not for long, Lot,” Noah says, almost under his breath, and it makes me wonder if there’s something he’s not telling me.
I wouldn’t be surprised. In my condition, it might be best if I don’t prod too much either.
We head to the living room and turn on the TV while gorging on our meals, and I blow out a breath as I sink into the sofa.
“It feels like heaven not having to stand on my feet one second longer. If the twins get any bigger, I might end up bedbound or else risk snapping my legs like a candy cane.”
“It’s you who’s getting bigger, Lot,” Carlotta rudely points out. “And if you keep putting away the lasagna like that, you’ll get bigger still. We all know those little legal eagle squirts you got swimming around in your Olympic-sized belly only weigh about three pounds each.”
“They each weigh close to six,” I tell her. “I saw Dr. Barnette just last week.” I get a poke in the ribs and gasp, and then it repeats itself again and again. “ Ooh , speaking of the twins. Quick —lay your hands on my belly. They’re going off like a popcorn factory.”
“It’s probably just gas,” Carlotta says. “I’ve had that go off in my belly like a popcorn factory, too.”
Both Noah and Everett place their hands softly over my stomach, and sure enough, the twins put on a show.
Noah shakes his head. “I will never stop marveling at the miracle taking place in there.”
“I still can’t believe they’ll be here in a few short weeks—or less,” Everett says, leaning over and landing a kiss on my cheek.
“Twins, as in two of them,” I point out and he nods.
“We’ll need names eventually,” he says as he gives my belly a soft pat.
Everett and I have been volleying names back and forth each night as if it were a sport. And yet neither of us seems to be scoring any points in that department because nothing seems to be sticking.
“If they’re girls, how about we name them after our mothers?” I shrug up at him and Carlotta gives a whoop of approval. “ Miranda and Eliza,” I say. “We can even come up with cutesy nicknames they can go by if you want.”
Carlotta harumphs. “What’s wrong with Carlotta?”
“Honestly?” I shoot her a look over my pizza. “Aren’t there enough of us by now? We’re up to four already.”
“I think you should think outside the box,” Sweetheart says and I place my hands over Noah’s and Everett’s so they can hear her, too. “Human names have always felt rather stuffy to me. How about something more light and airy like Peanut, Pumpkin, Noodle, Scruffy, or Moose?” She turns to Carlotta. “Scruffy and Moose happen to be my beaus at the dog park. Neither of them is fixed, and dare I say, a banana hammock would not suffice.”
“And on that note,” Everett says. “How about we switch gears? What’s going on with the case?”
“I’ve got nothing,” Noah is quick to respond.
“I figured you didn’t,” Everett shoots back. “That’s why I was asking Lemon.”
A little laugh bubbles in my throat, but I can’t help it. I love it when Everett acknowledges my work in the investigative field.
“Let’s see”—I think on it for a second—“I’ve only spoken to a few people and I’d hardly call any of them suspects. There’s Venus Finnegan.”
“Her husband is a great guy.” Noah ticks his head as he says it. “A real family man. He’d do anything for them.”
Everett purses his lips. “Even kill for his wife?”
“Wouldn’t you?” Carlotta says and Everett gives a definitive nod.
“ Ooh , thank you. And good thought,” I say, patting him on the leg. “Venus was in the process of losing her business had that lawsuit gone through. They could have tied her up in legal fees and cost her more than the name of her brand. But I’ll be honest, I’m grateful Venus gets to keep things the way they are. I’ve never been to a more elegant establishment. And those desserts were out-of-this-world. If she wasn’t charging out-of-this-world prices, I might be shaking in my culinary boots. But as it stands, we’re not competitors in that sense. We basically serve two different markets. She’s an upper-end luxury brand fit for royalty, and I’m more or less servicing your everyday Jane and Joe.”
“Sort of like Foxy and Sexy,” Carlotta says between bites of her lasagna. “You’ve got your everyday Joe in Foxy. And Sexy is a king who lives in the lap of luxury.”
“ Ooh ,” Sweetheart muses. “I do love a good lap to snuggle up in.”
Carlotta nods. “So does Lot Lot.”
She’s not wrong.
“I much prefer the Cutie Pie to that fancy place,” Noah says as he raises a hand. “I for one will never stop enjoying your donuts, Lot.”
Everett growls before nodding my way, “And your fudge brownies will always be my favorite, along with everything else you put your hand to.” He kisses the back of my hand to exemplify his point, then proceeds to kiss his way right up my arm.
“Okay, who’s next?” Noah gruffs and motions for things to move along—and not in any amorous direction.
“I spoke with Shelly Everly,” I say.
“That’s my girl,” Carlotta says with whoop. “Shelly Raisin’ Helly and I were supposed to do a gig out in Fallbrook, but she had something come up and had to cancel.”
“What came up?” I ask, mostly so I can wolf down the rest of my pepperoni pizza before I go on.
The pizza at Mangias is nothing like I’ve ever had. The crust is thick and soft like a pastry, the sauce is tangy in the very best way, and they don’t skimp on it either, and the mozzarella cheese is piled two inches high at least. And as for their toppings, it more or less rained pepperoni all over this beauty.
Carlotta shrugs. “She’s moving her office from Hollyhock to right here on Main Street.”
“Oh, nice,” I say. “Maybe she’ll finally give me a write-up. I’d love to have some free advertising for my bakery.” I pause a moment. “Although I’m not sure we have an office building on Main Street.”
“That’s because you’re too round as a house to notice anything that doesn’t spit out a pizza, a donut, or a plate of wontons,” she points out.
And well, she’s not wrong.
I shrug it off. “Anyway, it was Shelly who told me about the lawsuit with Venus. And come to think of it, Shelly told me about Caudwell’s gambling problem, too—which he admitted to this evening.”
Noah grunts, “What is Shelly’s connection to the deceased?”
“She worked for Romeo before changing careers,” I tell him.
“And she sure changed for the better.” Carlotta hoists her pizza in the air.
“ Hear, hear ,” Sweetheart cheers. “Just yesterday we visited a bakery out in Cringle that specializes in Christmas treats all year long. I had the dark chocolate yule log with coffee frosting and toffee bits.” She sighs at the memory of it. “While I was still alive, anything with cocoa was strictly off-limits. But now that I’m immortal, it’s part of my regular diet. I should have bit the big one ages ago.”
“If calories don’t count, sign me up,” Carlotta says with a laugh before sobering up quickly and shooting me a look. “Don’t even think about it.”
I make a face. “Anyway, then there’s Caudwell. He’s got the biggest motive of them all if you ask me.”
Noah nods. “Twenty thousand motives, locked and ready to go.”
“I just remembered something.” Everett frowns. “I did see a grease stain on his dress shirt, just on the left side of his ribcage right after the murders occurred. I don’t know if it was there before, but I’m pretty certain a crossbow can get grimy enough to cause it.”
I gasp at the thought. “Especially if you’re holding it close to your body. Oh, Noah, what do you think?”
“Guilty as charged. I say we cuff him.” He winks my way. “Someone needs to be booked for these homicides. It may as well be him.”
“I can’t imagine him doing anything like that,” Everett says, putting down his plate on the coffee table and Pancake doesn’t hesitate to jump right in his lap. Poor Waffles looks as if he missed his moment. Those sweet cats really miss my lap more than I do.
“Didn’t you hear the guy?” Carlotta asks Everett. “Foxy doesn’t care who did the deed. He just wants to beat Lot Lot to the finish line for once.”
“Very funny,” Noah grunts into his pizza.
“Caudwell is a pretty great guy,” Everett goes on. “But I guess he admitted to having a pretty great flaw as well. He could lose his shirt if he doesn’t shape up soon.”
“Yup.” Noah leans into the sofa. “And if he killed those people, he’ll lose his freedom, too.”
We finish up with First Dinner—that’s what I’ve affectionately started to call my early evening grazing parade. The one that occurs closer to midnight is where I really pack on the pounds.
Noah scrolls through his laptop as he works on the case, Everett is lost in the game, and I’m lost in my phone scrolling through the social media sites of all three of my so-called suspects.
Shelly’s social media is the most delicious by far. Caudwell’s is pretty scrumptious, too, but I can tell he has a media team behind his posts. They’re not personal in nature, and each one feels like an ad for one of his products.
Venus’ is by far the most fun for me to look at because it’s rife with cute pictures of her adorable kids. In fact, I scroll back so far, I’m seeing them all as infants. And wouldn’t you know it, her son came out with a shock of red hair right from the get-go.
Oh, how I can’t wait to see what my sweet babes will look like. Will they have hair? Will they?—
I stop cold as I spot the very next picture on Venus Finnegan’s feed.
“Oh my goodness,” I say with a heavy sigh. “I know who the killer is.”