Page 4 of Bobbing for Bodies
I take in the crowd again and spot Holland Grand, who owns the orchard, speaking with Ken and Molly McMurry, who own the pumpkin patch. Next to them stands Naomi Turner, Keelie’s twin sister. But, unlike Keelie, Naomi has decided to eschew her naturally blonde locks and dye them a gorgeous shade of ebony much like my own sister. Her eyes are a startling shade of blue, and I must admit the combination looks stunning. Both Naomi and Keelie are stunning in general. Next to her stand her best friend, Lily Swanson, and her newly minted beau, Travis Darren. I can’t help but scowl over at him since he was dating both Simonson sisters at the very same time just last month.
Past them stand Becca Turner, aka my second mom, Naomi and Keelie’s mother, speaking with Eva Hollister, the woman who runs my mother’s book club, and Chrissy Nash, the mayor’s ex-wife. And seeing that Mayor Nash himself is here mingling amongst the crowd, I’d say Chrissy is finally past the point where she can’t stand to be in the same room with him.
To their left, Collette Jenner postures for the attention of every male in a three-mile radius. Apparently, she’s one of Everett’s many exes, and I can’t help but grunt at the sight of her. Sure, she’s a perky redhead who makes it a point to brighten any room she’s in with that obnoxious witch-like cackle, but there’s something about the fact Everett used to date her that has made me unsure of how I feel about her anymore. It’s not like we were friends to begin with.
Just as I’m about to tempt Everett with one of my wickedly delicious devil’s food cupcakes, something small and furry scurries across the floor, and I gasp as if trying to suck all of the oxygen out of the room.
“Arodent,” I hiss to Everett, suddenly regretful I said anything at all. God forbid word get out that I’ve got rats or bats or whatever that thing was that just skipped into the place.
“What? Where?” Everett looks to the ground right along with me.
The tip of a fluffy little tail threads through the crowd, and my jaw unhinges. “It’s not a rat after all. It’s a squirrel.” I’m only a touch relieved by that fact. It’s still a menacing rodent,verminif you will. And I certainly don’t care to have it in my shop. I would have said all of that out loud, but I’m terrified of starting a stampede for the front door.
“I don’t see it.”
“It’s right there.” I point as the brazen little beast comes forward and stands on its hind legs right in front of my mother. Dear God, she’s going to stomp it to death with those four inch stilettos she’s stuffed her feet into. My mother is notorious for stomping out the life of a vermin or two, mostly mice and rats that found their way far too close to her killer clogs. She would do anything to defend her daughters, and a spontaneous homicide has never been off the table.
“Right where?” Everett leans in toward the spot my finger is poised to.
“Are you blind?” I tease as the creature takes a few ambling steps in our direction, and I freeze solid. That silver bushy tail, that fuzzy gray coat is suddenly translucent in nature, and I can see the floor right through its body. This isn’t your run-of-the-mill woodland creature. This was once somebody’s loveable, and well past its prime, pet.
“I’m beginning to question your vision.” Everett looks stymied by what it is I’m staring at.
“Oh”—seeing that this beast is for my eyes only, I think it’s best I ditch this entire conversation with him—“you’re right.” My cheeks flush pink as I stand straight as a pin. “It must have been a scarf someone dropped momentarily. It’s about freezing outside already.” A thought occurs to me, and I jolt to attention.
Dear God! The last time I saw a dearly departed beast it was Merilee’s orange tabby and look what happened to her! Merilee, not the tabby. The pets that skip over from the other side of the rainbow bridge arealwaysa prequel to some horrible event in their previous owner’s life. The trouble used to range from skinned knees to broken bones, but in Merilee’s case, that cat might as well have been dressed like the Grim Reaper. I’ve seen the ghost of a person just twice before, as well, and I’m darn glad I haven’t seen one since. The squirrel comes up and holds its tiny paws up in my direction, just looking at me with those big brown eyes, that bushy tail hiked at attention, and I can’t help but coo at it.
“Oh my goodness, you are the sweetest little thing,” I whisper as I give it a quick scratch over the back.
“Lottie?” Everett sounds more than worried for me.
I straighten once again as the tiny creature scuttles past me, making his way to the kitchen.
Everett’s dark brows bounce with concern. “Are you feeling okay? Who were talking to?”
“You!” My voice squeaks. “I was talking to you. You’re just the sweetest thing.” I bite down hard over my lower lip. Lying is something I’m loath to do. “Say! If anyone in this room were to once have had a squirrel as a pet, who would you think that would be?”
“Me.” A warm, masculine voice buzzes in my ear as Noah wraps his arms around me, and my heart lurches inside my chest.
“Please tell me you’re kidding,” I say, spinning around in his arms to take in his gorgeous face. I couldn’t stand it if anything even remotely bad happened to Noah. My heart hurts just thinking about it.
That tick of his cheek spells out concern. “I am kidding.” He opens his mouth to say something else just as the McMurrys come upon us.
Molly smiles at both Noah and me. “I hope we’re not interrupting.” My eyes flit to that shoulder-length bob of hers with its cute, vertical curls. I’ve been envious of everyone who can pull off that hairstyle. I’ve wanted to try it myself this summer, but I never had a free moment. And now with the bakery, I’m afraid my hair will be set in a messy bun permanently. Her husband, Ken, is classically tall, dark, and handsome. He always has a toothy grin at the ready and a piece of straw tucked behind his ear that gives him a scarecrow-esque appeal.
“Not interrupting at all,” I say, fully relieved to steer all conversation away from that poor deceased squirrel.
“Good,” Molly says, holding up a purple frosted devil’s food cupcake with a tiny meringue ghost spiked into the top. “Ken and I were wondering if you’d be up for baking about twelve dozen or so of these for the Fall-O-Ween Fest down at the pumpkin patch? Of course, we’ll pay you and be happy to do it. Each year we like to offer a refreshment table, and these would be a perfect treat to go along with it.”
“Yes! Of course, I would.” A rush of adrenaline bursts through me all at once. “I would love to furnish any and all of the treats you need for the Fall-O-Ween Fest. It happens to be one of my fondest memories growing up.”
“That’s perfect.” Molly’s entire face brightens as if my cupcakes had the power to make her day, and I’d like to think they did. “I’ll get you a firm number of how many we’ll need, then email me with an estimate of the cost, and I’ll come by next week and leave a deposit.”
“I sure will,” I say as they weave their way back into the crowd. Collette crops up in their place and immediately begins asking Everett ridiculous questions in a clear effort to pry him away.
I look to Noah. “I’ll be right back. I’d better refill those cupcakes so that Molly and Ken can see firsthand how much the locals love them.”
Noah ticks his head toward Nell. “Sounds good. I’ll head over and say hello.”