Chapter 35
Lottie
It’s Sunday afternoon, and the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery is packed to the rafters with just about everyone I know and love, the smell of my fresh-baked cinnamon rolls drifting through the whole place like a warm hug nobody asked for but everybody needed.
Everett, Noah, Carlotta, Mayor Nash, my sisters Lainey, Meg, and Charlie, Mom, Wiley, Effie, Suze, and Lily are all here, along with what feels like half of Honey Hollow.
Pancake and Waffles are perched in their bubble backpacks on the counter, looking mildly put out but tolerating the bedlam with the patience of furry saints who’d file a complaint if they could reach a pen.
Peanut floats near Lyla Nell, who’s feeding her imaginary peanuts and laughing and clapping every time one vanishes. Mom is bouncing Ozzy gently on her hip, and Wiley’s got Corbin, who’s gnawing a teething ring and drooling with deep contentment.
Everyone is talking at once, laughing and chattering and reliving the circus and the fact that I caught not one but two killers inside of about three minutes. A feat I’m still not entirely sure how I pulled off, though I’m certainly glad I did.
“I still say Suze should’ve been the killer,” Carlotta says with a grunt. “It would’ve made for a better story.”
Suze glares at her. “I was the victim, Carlotta. Jump stole fifty thousand dollars from me.”
“Exactly,” Carlotta says. “Perfect motive. You missed your window, Suzie Q.”
Lily snorts. “You would’ve made a terrible murderer, Suze. You can’t even fib about liking somebody’s haircut.” She hitches a lock of hair behind her ear and glares at Suze as she says it.
Come to think of it, Lily’s hair does look a little funny.
Effie nods. “Facts. You told my mother her perm looked like a poodle got electrocuted.”
Suze crosses her arms. “It did.”
“Wow,” I say. “You’re lucky you didn’t end up on Jimmy Canelli’s kill list for that.” And we all share a laugh—with Effie’s being the loudest and longest.
Noah and Everett lean against the counter, both wearing the smug satisfaction of men whose girl had just caught the killer.
Ava and Olivia are deep in conversation with Evie, all three of them in their matching hoodies.
I’ll admit it, I love mine too. Lyla Nell loves hers as well, just not enough to roast inside it in the dead center of summer.
“You know,” Noah says to Everett with a wistful smile, “your daughters are something else.”
Everett nods. “They certainly are.”
Speaking of the twins, Ava and Olivia sidle up to me looking nervous and guilty in roughly equal measure.
“Lottie,” Ava says, batting those big blue eyes. “We’re really, really sorry about the boxed cake mix rumor.”
Olivia nods, every bit as earnest. “We didn’t mean for it to get that out of hand.”
I cross my arms. “You started a rumor that could’ve sunk my bakery.”
“We know,” Ava says. “But we have a little surprise for you.”
I narrow my eyes. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”
“Don’t be!” Olivia says brightly.
Ava grins. “Cray Cray knows what it is.”
I look at Carlotta, who’s grinning like the cat who got the cream, the canary, and the keys to a male strip club. “Oh no.”
Peanut floats over. “This sounds ominous.”
Before I can get another word out, the bakery door swings open and a whole crowd pours in, families, couples, teenagers, and every last one of them starts ordering cakes, cookies, cupcakes, brownies, anything not nailed down.
“I heard this is the best bakery in Vermont!” one woman says.
“Best cakes in the world!” another chimes in.
“I saw it on social media,” a teenager says, holding up her phone. “It’s all over the internet. It’s going viral!”
Within minutes, nearly every tray is bare. The display cases look like they survived a polite stampede. Suze, Lily, and Effie scramble to keep up with the orders.
Everett and I both turn to Ava and Olivia.
“What did you do?” Everett demands, and as curious as I am about the answer, I am decidedly not mad about it.
Ava grins. “Well, let’s just say we used Cray Cray’s social media handles—”
“All six of them,” Olivia adds.
Carlotta nods proudly. “I let them at it. Figured it was for a good cause.”
“And we started a rumor in the right direction this time,” Ava finishes. “We told everyone this is the best bakery in the world. We hit Tikety Tok, Insta Pictures, Face Place, every corner we could think of, and now folks all over are sharing photos of your desserts. The algorithm loves you.”
I blink. “You, you fixed it?”
Olivia nods. “We made it right.”
I genuinely don’t know whether to hug them or ground them, so I split the difference and laugh while shaking my head. “You two are unbelievable.”
“We know,” they say in unison.
“And I really love you both,” I say.
Everett nods. “As do I.”
He opens his arms wide, and we all collapse into a group hug while the madness keeps swirling around us, customers shouting manic orders, laughter ricocheting off the walls, and the register dinging like it’s trying to win an award.
Just as the chaos hits its peak, the door swings open again, and Haley walks in.
“Mom!” Ava and Olivia shout, sprinting her way.
Haley crouches and gathers them both into a hug. “Oh, girls. Have you been good?”
Ava straightens and bats her lashes at her mother. “We’ve been darling little angels. Isn’t that right, Olivia?”
Olivia nods solemnly, then turns to give Everett, Noah, and me the single most innocent expression I have ever witnessed on a human face.
Haley looks at Everett. “Were they really okay?”
Everett’s lips curve just enough. “We’ve had quite the time with them. And we’d be happy to do it again.”
I bite down on my tongue so hard, I nearly bite it in two. But if it came right down to it, I’d say those very words. And, heaven help me, I’d mean them.
Haley beams. “Thank you so much. I know they can be a handful.”
“They were perfect,” Everett says smoothly.
The girls hug Evie, then Lyla Nell, then wave goodbye to Peanut, otherwise known as Lyla Nell’s imaginary friend.
Ava and Olivia give Pancake and Waffles one last squeeze as Noah lifts Pancake out of one bubble backpack and I free Waffles from the other.
We hold the cats like babies, and they purr away, no doubt wondering why I don’t haul them to the bakery more often, where the floor is paved with crumbs and about two dozen hands all clamoring to hold them.
Peanut floats toward the ceiling, her giant ears flapping as if they were wings. “It appears my time has come to depart this earthly plane, yet again. Quick, Lyla Nell, toss me one last cookie!”
Lyla Nell springs into action, selecting a pink-frosted circus animal cookie shaped like an elephant in a tutu. She holds it up, and a few people nearby gasp at the sight of a cookie hovering in midair. Peanut gobbles it in one bite, and this time half the room gasps right along with them.
And now it’s me doing the gasping. “I guess there’s a little circus magic left in Honey Hollow after all!”
Everyone applauds, some genuinely delighted, others looking thoroughly bewildered, and then the bakery hums back to life with chatter.
Mom watches the girls go, then turns to us. “Well. That was the real circus, wasn’t it?”
We all laugh.
Mom gives a wicked grin. “And yet that’s nothing compared to the circus coming to town next week.”
I freeze. “What’s coming to town next week?”
Every head swivels her way.
Mom’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “I just had my entire B&B booked solid for the Bigfoot Believers Bash.”
Charlie chokes on her coffee. “The what?”
“The Bigfoot Believers Bash,” Mom repeats. “It’s a Bigfoot convention. Enthusiasts from all over the country are pouring in for it. They’re convinced they’ve turned up evidence of Bigfoot in the woods behind Honey Lake.”
Lainey and Meg trade a look.
“We’ve heard the rumors,” Lainey says.
Noah nods. “I’ve heard them too. Campers reporting sightings. Strange footprints.”
Wiley leans back. “I think I actually saw him once. He was big, hairy, and moved fast.”
“That was Mayor Nash,” Carlotta says, not missing a single beat, and the whole bakery breaks apart with laughter.
Wiley shakes his head. “It’s true. He vanished into the trees before I could get a good look.”
Suze snorts. “The only thing you saw was your own reflection in the lake after a three-day fishing trip.”
More laughter ensues, the bulk of it from Suze.
Carlotta grins. “Suze Squatch, if anyone’s tracking down a hairy man in the woods, it’s you. You’ve always had a gift for it.”
The whole bakery erupts again.
Everett pulls me close, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Lemon, I have a feeling these Bigfoot hunters are going to be every bit as chaotic as the circus.”
I lean into him. “At least Bigfoot doesn’t travel with knife throwers and illusionists who embezzle from the equipment budget.”
“That we know of,” he says.
Noah shakes his head. “Twenty bucks says Lottie turns up a body before the convention’s over.”
“Hey,” I protest. “I don’t find bodies. Bodies find me. There’s a big difference, and someday I’ll figure out what it is.”
“Same coffin, different lid,” Carlotta cackles.
Noah’s dimples dig in. “Either way, my money’s on murder.”
I look around at my loud, impossible, wonderful family and friends, and I let myself sit in the fact that in a matter of days, Honey Hollow is going to be wall to wall with grown adults hunting a creature most of them have only seen on a blurry videoclip.
Which means more chaos. More mysteries. More chances for me to wander into something I have absolutely no business wandering into.
But that’s life in Honey Hollow.
The circus may have packed up and rolled out of town, but the show? The show never ends.
And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that in this town you can always count on three things. Friendly people, dangerously good pastries, and a body turning up when you least expect it.
Next week there just might be a special guest coming into town.
And he’s got a big foot.
Thank you for reading!