Chapter 5
Lottie
Iscream again, because apparently once wasn’t enough to wake the entire state of Vermont.
Suze screams too, and the sound that comes out of her is about three octaves higher than I thought humanly possible.
Yes, that Suze—Noah’s mother, grandmother to Lyla Nell, currently lurking in the dark at a homicide scene.
Noah and Everett come crashing through the door like action heroes in a low-budget film, and I’m half-surprised they don’t have their weapons drawn.
Everett’s eyes land on me first. “The boys are with your mother. Lemon, what’s going on?”
Noah spots Suze, his face going pale. “Mom?”
And then they both look down.
Jumping Barnaby Blaze sits slumped in the chair, my half-eaten cookie still locked in his grip, a knife buried in his chest, and his top hat starting to list heavily to one side as if it’s about to give up and call it a night.
Noah pulls out his phone and starts shouting into it, something about backup needed and the coroner’s office, and I stop listening because my brain is trying very hard not to process what I’m looking at.
Everett pulls me in close, his hand warm and steady on my back. “What the heck happened? Suze?”
Suze’s mouth opens, but before she can say a word, Carlotta bursts into the room as if she’s late to her own party.
“What did I miss?” she announces, phone already raised and recording.
“Did someone—” She stops short, takes one look at Jump, then at Suze and gags.
“Oh geez, Lot Lot. You finally did it. You caught the Honey Hollow serial killer in the act!” She swings the phone toward me.
“Go on and arrest her, Foxy. I’ll catch Lot Lot’s look of glee on video. Stuff like this is bound to go viral.”
“Carlotta,” Everett says, his voice tight. “Please put away your phone.”
But before Carlotta can comply, not that she would, a tall redhead walks in, and I know immediately who it is.
Ivy Fairbanks. Noah’s partner down at the Ashford Sheriff’s Department.
Pale skin that would make a vampire green with envy, hair pulled back in a bun so tight it could double as a facelift, blazer and pencil skirt pressed within an inch of their lives, and an obsession with Noah that’s about as subtle as a marching band.
She’s definitely not in my fan club.
“Lottie Lemon,” Ivy starts off with venom, and I can already tell she’s about to go off like a firecracker when her eyes flit to the right. “Suze?” She looks more than a little stumped. “What are you doing in here?”
Noah tucks his phone in his pocket and steps in close. “That’s what I want to know.”
“I just found her here,” I volunteer, and not until the words leave my lips, and Suze shoots me the death glare, do I realize I just made Suze Fox look like a killer.
Perhaps even the Honey Hollow serial killer.
Not that there is one. Each homicide thus far has been fully solved and the perpetrator carted off to prison.
But well, let’s face it, Suze is so bitter and mean, she would be a totally believable candidate.
The jury would convict her on personality alone.
She grunts my way. “So much for having my back. I always suspected you wouldn’t help me hide the bodies should something go awry in my life.”
“Mother,” Noah practically riots.
“Oh, I didn’t do this,” she says, waving off poor Jump and having the audacity to shoot him a dirty look in the process. “You all know I’m innocent.”
“That’s not how this works,” Ivy says, her voice clipped. “Tell her, Essex.”
Now it’s me grunting. Ivy Fairbanks has never been Essexed—and yes, I just used his formal name as a verb, which is totally justifiable, by the way. Pretty much everything about Everett is a verb. Especially under the sheets.
“Essex?” Suze crows.
Second verse, same as the first.
“Suze,” Everett nods her way, his voice dropping into that calm, measured tone he uses in court. “I highly advise you not to say another word until you’ve secured legal counsel.”
“What?” She squawks again and raises her fist at the corpse. And for a second, I’m half-afraid we’re going to see her assault the poor man. I’m pretty sure there are strict laws against that. Although knowing Suze, she’d consider it a loophole since he’s not in a position to press charges.
“I can’t afford legal counsel,” she crows. “I’m innocent. Lottie was in the room, too. Why isn’t anyone telling her to keep her piehole shut? Or procure legal counsel?”
Carlotta chuckles as she holds her phone a notch higher. “Because Lot Lot here has the legal system on lock, Suzie Q. She’s got both the sheriff’s department and the local courthouse in her panties.”
I shoot her a look. “The phrase you’re looking for is back pocket.”
Everett’s eyes widen my way and I shrug up at him.
“I meant what I said.” Carlotta doubles down on my intimates. “And those men have been in every pocket you have to offer.”
“Carlotta,” I warn.
Within seconds the tiny room is swarmed with deputies and the coroner’s office, and the air fills with the crackle of radios and the sharp scent of latex gloves.
“What in tarnation is going on in here?” Graham Sterling, the older man we met earlier, the owner of this circus, battles his way to the front, and he all but goes white as a ghost when he sees the grisly sight. “Is this a prank of some sort?”
Noah steps over to him and does his best to herd him back. “I’m sorry, Mr. Sterling. This is very much real. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave so my men can process the scene.”
Everett nods. “And I think it’s best you ask everyone to leave for the night. The show is over for this evening.”
Sterling glances up at Everett as if he just threatened him with a blade next. “The show is never over,” Sterling pants as if he’s about to faint. “They coined the phrase the show must go on for a reason.”
“Not tonight,” Noah says. “This is officially a crime scene. Everyone needs to be sent home.”
Sterling gives a reluctant nod and takes off just as Lavinia storms in with Poppy. Milo follows with his assistant, Celeste, on his heels, along with a few performers I don’t recognize.
“Oh my goodness,” Lavinia gasps and quickly buries her face into her hands.
Celeste screams.
Milo’s face contorts before he closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Come on,” he says gently, turning Celeste toward the door. “You don’t need to see this.”
“That’s one of my knives,” Lavinia cries out as she points in horror.
Milo winces as he looks at the blade. “Let’s go, Lavinia. Let’s let the sheriff figure this out.”
Noah heads their way. “I’m going to have to speak with you all. Please stay available.”
“Of course,” Milo answers for them as tears begin to streak Celeste’s face.
“Oh, that poor man,” she says, burying her face in Milo’s chest as they take off.
But Poppy steps forward and her mouth falls open. “What in the world?” She gives a dark laugh. “I’m sorry, but this doesn’t seem real. Jump? Jump, you dirt bag, wake up!”
Ivy pulls the woman back before she can get any closer and soon she’s escorted out of the room as well.
I glance back at Jump and note a sprinkling of glitter covering his legs, but in this dull light I can’t tell if it’s gold, green, or blue.
Lavinia is the last to leave the room. Her eyes never leave that knife sticking out of his chest—apparently her knife—and I note the slight curve of a smile taking over her face before she finally darts out into the hall.
“Let’s go, Lottie,” Noah says, herding Everett, Carlotta, Suze, and me toward the exit. “I’ll speak with you all later as well.”
Ivy grunts as she spears me with a look. “I bet you will,” she grouses.
Everett helps escort us out of the tiny room, out of the hall, and miraculously out into the open night air.
The crowd outside is chaos wrapped in panic. Bodies swarm all around us as dark whispers and a few loose screams permeate the air while people stream out of the big top. It’s clear everyone has been apprised that this night has taken a dark turn.
“What do you want to say to your fans, Suze?” Carlotta asks, still pointing her phone in Suze’s direction.
“Would you knock that off?” Suze nearly sends the phone flying as she swats it away.
“I’m just trying to help you build your platform,” Carlotta protests.
“I don’t want a platform,” Suze shoots back. “I want to go home and pretend this never happened.”
Everett physically steps between them just as his mother, Eliza, Haley, and the twins show up.
“What happened?” Eliza demands before giving me the side-eye as if she knows.
I shake my head just enough at Everett. They shouldn’t alert the girls to what’s really going on.
Everett clears his throat. “There’s been an accident. It’s best we all go home tonight.”
“Sounds good to me,” Haley says, pulling out her phone. “I’ve got a long day tomorrow.” She gasps, looking at her screen. “Oh no, my sitter just canceled.” She lets out a hard groan.
“Well, you don’t need a sitter for the girls,” Eliza is quick to tell her.
“They are certainly not old enough to be on their own,” Haley counters while the girls are off a few feet away, staring hypnotically into their phones.
Everett leans toward Haley. “I think what she means is that she’s willing to watch them herself.”
“I am not,” Eliza bellows loud enough to turn heads. “I have an entire week of board meetings scheduled with both the hospital and with my investors. I’m talking about you, Essex.”
“What?” He looks genuinely perplexed. “I can’t babysit this week.” He stops shy of coming up with a good reason why. I can tell he’s been thrown for a loop.
“Well, you wouldn’t have to babysit,” Eliza chortles. “When they’re your kids, Essex, it’s not called babysitting, it’s called parenting.”
“She’s right,” I say, stunned myself at what might be coming our way.
“Haley,” I give a pained smile, “we’d be more than happy to have the girls for the week.
We have plenty of room, and it just so happens that Everett’s schedule is clear.
We’re going to have a lot of fun with them.
” I enunciate that last part extra hard as if trying to convince myself in the effort.
“Oh, thank goodness.” Haley exhales, and you can practically see the flood of relief wash over her.
“You have no idea how thankful I am. I’ve been looking forward to this conference ever since it came up.
I’ll drop them off in the morning and I’ll be back next Sunday to pick them up.
” She offers me a quick embrace before shooting a sharp look at Everett.
“You’ll have fun. The girls are a riot.”
She doesn’t shed a smile and it begs the question if she’s being ironic, sarcastic, or issuing some sort of harbinger.
I guess we’re about to find out.
We say goodnight and they all take off.
Suze is helping close down the bakery booth, and Carlotta is currently getting footage of Mayor Nash as he tries to calm the crowds.
Everett turns to me, his voice low. “This night was absolute insanity.”
“And we just agreed to add two teenagers to the mix,” I say. “What were we thinking?”
“That we needed more of it, apparently.” He shakes his head, but there’s a hint of a smile buried in there somewhere. “Let’s get the kids and get home.”
“Let’s.”
Here’s hoping insanity doesn’t rule the roost this week.
A shimmer up on the roof of the big top catches my eye and it’s a spray of tiny pink stars as that precious baby elephant appears and flaps its ears in the night breeze. Then it up and flies away, disappearing in a trail of glittering stars.
The pigs may not be flying, but the elephants sure are.
And in Honey Hollow, that’s never a good sign.