Chapter 8 #2
Both girls laugh, and I shoot Carlotta a look that says you’re not helping.
I clap my hands just once. “Okay, girls. Why don’t you head into the back and decorate as many cookies or cupcakes as you like while I finish up here?”
Their faces light up, and they’re off like a shot, racing toward the kitchen.
I turn to the elephant, who’s now hovering near the stroller and sniffing at Corbin’s head.
“Hi there,” I say softly.
“Oh, hello!” the elephant says, her voice high and sweet and impossibly cheerful. “You must be Lottie! I’m Peanut. I used to belong to the circus. I was a tiny runt, you know, but a regal one. Very dignified despite my size.”
Carlotta grins. “You’re cute as a button, Toots.”
“Thank you!” Peanut flaps her ears. “I do try. Now, which human bit the big one? I assume that’s why I’m here.”
“Jumping Barnaby Blaze,” I say.
Peanut gasps, and her little trunk droops. “Oh, him! Oh, he just adored me. Walked me every day and made sure I got a decent mud bath now and again, too. He was a good man. A bit theatrical, but good. So who did him in?”
“That’s for us to find out,” I say. “And that’s exactly why you’re here.”
As it stands, Carlotta and I are something called transmundane, further classified as supersensual.
The long and short of it—we can see the dead.
Not all the dead, thank goodness, because that would be a nightmare that could rival any Halloween funhouse and also extremely inconvenient at funerals.
Just a select few. Mostly the ghosts that come back to help solve murders, and usually it’s the person or sweet creature the deceased loved most. Which means this cute little Peanut was Jump’s most beloved companion.
Lyla Nell can see the dead, too. Unfortunately for both me and her. And apparently the standing of her perceived sanity in the eyes of my sister. Thankfully, the boys seem oblivious to the dead. And right about now, the living too.
“Well,” Peanut says, twirling in a little circle, “I’m off to the circus! I can’t wait to catch the killer. And maybe a few peanuts in the process. Do you think they still have peanuts there?”
“If not, gobble down a few of Lot Lot’s cookies,” Carlotta says. “They’re so good they sort of remind me of puppy kibble.”
“Carlotta.” I swat her for even going there. “How would you know what puppy kibble tastes like anyway?”
“Let’s just say Foxy’s mutt will share anything for a back scratch.”
“Eww,” I say, swatting her over the shoulder again for tricking Noah’s golden retriever out of his snacks. Poor Toby. That dog has survived two of Noah’s girlfriends and a few of his weddings—all of which were me, and yet somehow Carlotta remains his greatest trial.
Peanut disappears in a shower of tiny pink stars just as Suze shrieks from the kitchen. We look over to see her carrying Ava and Olivia out by their elbows, and speaking of circuses, their faces look like a couple of clowns.
“What in the world?” I ask, squinting their way, trying my best to determine if they’ve indeed taken my frosting to their flesh.
Thick blue eyeshadow. Hot pink blush. Lipstick in a shade of red that could stop traffic. And enough mascara to make their eyelashes look like tarantulas.
“I caught the little thieves rifling through your things, Lottie.” Suze is quick to evict them back to the café portion of the bakery. “I’d check your wallet if I were you.”
I shoot Suze a look for accusing them of such things. Speaking of which, Suze is still on my list of people to accuse of things. Funny how that works.
“We weren’t stealing anything.” Ava wrenches herself free. “We were just borrowing your makeup, Lottie.”
I inch back. “I don’t have any makeup in my purse.”
Effie and Lily come running this way, both gawking at the girls as if they just witnessed a felony in progress.
Effie’s got dark hair and coffee-colored eyes, pretty in that effortless way that makes the rest of us feel like we’re trying too hard.
She’s about my age, thirty-ish, and works the counter with an efficiency that makes me wonder if she’s got a stopwatch hidden somewhere.
Her uncle is Jimmy Canelli, one of the top-dog mafia bosses around these parts, so I never mess with Effie.
Lily has dark hair and is more or less bubbly, and she perpetually looks like she just rolled out of a shampoo commercial. She happens to be dating Noah’s brother Alex, and helping raise his child too.
“It’s not mine,” Effie is quick to tell them, holding up her hands.
“Hey!” Lily gasps. “That’s my makeup! It’s expensive! And by the looks of it, they used it all. Lottie Lemon, you owe me some serious cash. Or a raise!”
Effie tips her head. “On second thought, it could have been mine. I wouldn’t mind a raise myself.”
“Very funny.” I sigh. “I’ll make it right somehow.”
Ozzy and Corbin both begin to cry at once, and I’m officially out of hands.
“Okay,” I say, bouncing Corbin while trying to soothe Ozzy with my foot on the stroller. “Let’s head to the house and get you girls settled before we head out for the day.”
“Where are we going after that?” Olivia asks, her face still a masterpiece of chaos.
“To the circus, of course,” I say, and the girls all cheer, especially Lyla Nell. “Don’t get too excited,” I tell them. “This is strictly business. My booth is there.”
Effie nods. “Suze and I are opening it in an hour.”
“We’ll see you at the big top.” I corral my crew out the door, pushing the stroller with one hand and holding Lyla Nell’s hand with the other while Ava and Olivia follow behind, still admiring their clown makeup while taking selfies.
Day one with the twins, and I’ve already lost control.
This week is going to be a total disaster.