Page 18 of Christmas Fudge Fatality
I nod. “You and Stacy left.”
“No, just me. Stacy said she has something she needed to discuss with her, and I didn’t want anything to do with it.”
Noah and I exchange a quick glance.
“That’s right,” I say. “I remember Stacy pulling Tamara away to talk to her earlier as well. I bet she was trying to have a conversation with her about something. Lainey was with them.” I shrug up at Noah.
Scott waves it off. “Just ask Stacy herself. She’ll tell you. Anyway, I took off and the next thing I knew Tamara was dead.”
“Scott”—I lean in—“what made you think Tamara was talking to me?”
“I saw a couple of girls headed toward her. It was dark. The next thing I knew she was saying your name like she was having a conversation with you.”
I can’t help but grimace. “I think it was Bonnie and Joyce with her—and, of course, Stacy. But oddly enough, it wasn’t me.”
Mayor Nash’s voice booms over the speakers, and soon our attention is drawn to the oversized evergreen in the center of the square.
“Welcome one and all to the Honey Hollow annual tree lighting ceremony! On behalf of our little town we want to wish each and every one of you a happy and safe Christmas season. Let’s count down from ten, and start this holiday season off with an illuminating bang!”
We do just that, and at once a burst of light ignites over our world in one shocking fit of splendor. A couple of overgrown sparklers go off on either side of the tree, much to the delight of the crowd, and an applause breaks out at the sight.
“That was spectacular.” I clap while looking over at Scott and Noah, but Scott is nowhere to be seen. “I guess he left. I hope I didn’t offend him.”
Noah wraps an arm around me, and I warm myself next to him.
“I think you’re the least of his worries, Lottie.” Noah takes a deep breath. “Lottie, you did speak with Tamara that night?”
“Yes, earlier. But I wasn’t the last to see her. I was with you when we found the body, remember?”
He thinks on it a moment. “You disappeared for a time. I was in line and you took off. Theoretically, you could have done this and then came back to get me. You led me right to the body.”
“What are you saying, Detective?” My voice grows with both panic and irritation.
“I’m saying exactly what Ivy will be saying once she hears of this.” He wipes his face down in frustration. “Look, I don’t think you’re a killer. But if you had an argument with someone, I would sure as heck like to know about it.” His voice softens. “It’s me, Lottie. You can trust me.”
“Wow”—I take a quick breath, stunned at the turn of events—“I guess I know how blindsided Scott must feel. I’m starting to feel the same way.”
“I promise, I’m not trying to blindside you. Two people think that you were the last to speak with Tamara. I’m sorry, Lottie, but I’m going to have to note it.”
“Don’t worry, Noah. I’m noting this myself.”
Right after I get to the bottom of why they believe it.
Chapter 8
Noah Corbin Fox.
I shake my head just thinking of the ornery detective. How dare he all but accuse me of murder.
Okay, so he didn’t quite do that. He was just doing his job—worse yet, following his instincts. And his natural instinct was to question whether or not I was a killer.
Everett is my alibi for that night.
Wait a second. I seem to remember I drifted from Everett at some point, too, and left him wading in the deep end of the Honey Hollow single ladies scene.
“Great,” I say out loud while standing in the middle of the kitchen of the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery.
“What’s great?” says a deep voice from down below, and I spot Noel scuttling his way into my line of vision. His little brass nametag swings back and forth, twinkling like a star.