Page 21 of Christmas Fudge Fatality
“Then it’s settled.” Noel jumps out of my arms and runs down the hall. “Let’s go, Lottie! It’s time to catch a killer.”
We head back out and the fun and games—or more to the point, the horrors and potential assaults have begun as the giant digital clock my mother hung for the occasion is already counting down. A buzzer goes off, and a man I don’t recognize leans into the microphone set up front and shouts, “Next!”
Bodies circulate and mingle, and among them I spot Noah and Everett talking to Detective Ivy Fairbanks. As soon as they spot me, they head in my direction, and I lead them to the mouth of the room.
“Lottie.” Ivy lifts her chin. She’s donned a red velvet gown and has her crimson hair pulled back into a chignon, looking every bit the glamour girl she is.
“Detective Fairbanks. It’s nice to see you here tonight.” I’ve already shared everything I know about Joyce and Bonnie with Everett and Noah. I supposed Noah has shared it with Ivy by proxy.
She sniffs. “I thought I’d jump in and try my hand at love.” She wrinkles her nose as if the thought were offensive to her on some level.
“Well, don’t go yet.” I look to both Noah and Everett who look equally handsome with their dark inky suits and their killer good looks—no pun intended. “It turns out, Tamara was speaking to me the night she was killed—moments before to be exact.”
“What?” Everett’s cobalt blue eyes widen a touch. “Lemon, I suggest we consult with an attorney before you implicate yourself in the presence of the law.”
“Honestly, I think it’s fine.” I pull out my phone. “Tamara left a message for me at the bakery.” I turn up the volume on my phone and play it as the three of them listen in. And as soon as it’s finished, they all lean back and take in a collective breath.
“Lottie”—Noah rakes his fingers through his hair—“this is big. That was a woman speaking to Tamara.”
I nod. “A woman who wasn’t me. And the only women in the woods with her that night were Joyce and Bonnie.” I shrug. “I guess Stacy was, too, according to Scott.”
Noah and Ivy exchange a knowing look.
Ivy pulls out her phone. “I’ll review the evidence. Lottie, send that to me right away. I need to have an analysis done.” She shifts her gaze to Noah. “I’ll be out front if you need me.”
Noah and Everett lean in, and we listen to the recording once again.
Everett’s chest expands. “She’s frantic. I’m sorry you had to hear that, Lemon.”
“I am, too,” I say. “But if it could help capture her killer, I’ll listen to it again every day of my life.”
The recording wraps up, and Noah shakes his head. “It sounded like whoever that other woman was said something to the effect ofdid she sell art?” He shakes his head baffled by it.
“Your interpretation is better than mine. I thought she saiddid he sell are. I guess we may never know what they were talking about.”
Noel barks. “Or who she is.” Noel runs into the conservatory and growls. “I see one of the suspects now, Lottie. Let’s attack!”
I make a face as I crane my neck into the crowd. “There’s Bonnie,” I say as I spot her blonde mane teased to the ceiling. Her lips are painted a caustic shade of pink, and she’s already chatting with a rather nice looking gentleman.
Everett nods to our left. “And there’s Joyce.”
I turn to find her laughing with a group of women. Each one looks more polished than the next. Joyce has a tight-fitting number on, a little black dress by every definition of the word, and she’s wearing a strand of garland around her neck like a scarf.
“They both seem to be in a good mood,” I say just as I spot Stacy standing with my sisters. “Ooh, look at that.” I point over to them.
Mom runs up before I can say another word.
“Lottie! Oh, thank goodness you came with a few good men. I’m down one man and I need to borrow from your surplus.”
My lips part as I look to Noah and Everett. I was never good at sharing my toys, and I have never entertained sharing my boys—but then again, neither one of them is officially mine.
Noah pulls out his phone. “Everett, why don’t you take this one? Ivy just texted and I need to confer with her about something.” He takes off for the exit, and I look to Everett who’s busy twisting his lips in a knot.
“It’s fine,” I say as I hike up on my tiptoes and offer his cheek a quick peck. “That’s something to remember me by.”
He ticks his head to the side. “Not only are you unforgettable, Lemon, you’re all I ever think about.”
“Aw!” Mom melts at his sweet proclamation. “Now come with me, Judge Baxter. We need to get you officially registered for the event.” And just like that, they disappear into the crowd.