Page 39 of Donut Disaster
“Hey”—Lainey jabs him on the arm—“rumor has it, your divorce is final. Congratulations. Now, do your best to steal my sister’s heart. I want her good and married so our kids can be in the same age bracket.”
“And we’re leaving now.” I thread my arm through Noah’s as I lead him away a safe distance. “Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for inviting me.” Noah is always so sweet, how could I not? “Everett texted. He’s having dinner with his mother.”
“I know. I feel horrible. The last thing I want is him avoiding me.”
“He’s not. It’s her birthday next week. Meghan asked if they could have an early dinner because she’s leaving on a business trip.”
“Oh.” I check my text messages, and sure enough he gave me all those details, too, but I didn’t see them until now. “In that case, I don’t feel too bad.” A strange sense of shyness comes over me as if Noah and I were on our very first date.
Cormack comes running toward us. “There you are!” She snatches Noah by the arm. “Amanda Wellington is here. She’s a guest of honor due to the fact she sold the Donovans their first home. If you’ll excuse us, Lenny, we have a few matrimonial details we need to shore up.”
And they’re off. Noah tries to pause and I wave him off, basically telling him not to bother. He still needs to deal with Cormack, and I seriously do not want that can of dead worms stinking up my sister’s homecoming.
Speaking of dead things, I spot Carlotta talking to a couple of my favorite spooks in the corner, so I head on over.
“Greer Giles and Winslow Decker!” I pull them both in for a surprisingly solid embrace before turning to my bio mother. “Carlotta, you do realize that the world thinks you’re carrying on a conversation all by your lonesome. I hear those psychiatric doctors have their nets out this time of year. I’d watch my supersensual back if I were you.”
She waves me off. “I was just going over the case with them.”
Greer is a brunette beauty with long, glossy hair and the face of a supermodel. She died a few months back with a bullet to the chest—or back as it were. In fact, she’s still wearing the white ruched dress she had on the night she was murdered, complete with a tiny blooming bloodstain on the front and back of her chest. Winslow is a handsome sandy-haired old-timey farmer who died about two hundred years ago. Once Greer came back to help me with a case, for whatever reason, she never went back. She and Winslow have been happily haunting the B&B ever since. And last month, they adopted a little girl about six-years-old.
“Where’s Lea?” Lea—Azalea—is a tiny brunette with long hair that she prefers to have covering her face in an eerie manner. She wears an old dirty red pinafore and a pair of scuffed Mary Jane slippers. She’s a bit frightening in a throwback horror movie sort of way. That is, until Greer slicks her hair back and you can see her sweet little face.
Greer points every which way. “Oh, who the heck knows.” She chortles and her laughter echoes in a frightening manner. “That’s the best part of having a spooktacular child like Lea. She can be anywhere. We don’t have to worry about a thing happening to her.”
“Yes, well, that does sound convenient.”
Winslow lifts his chin. “She found Cookie. An adorable pooch, if I don’t say so myself. He says the case is progressing. Carlotta mentioned you’ve spoken with a few of the suspects. Do any strike your fancy as the killer?”
I glance back and spot Aspen mingling in the crowd.
“No, not yet. And to be truthful, they all look a little guilty.” I lean in toward Greer. “I need to speak with Aspen. It turns out, she had an Elite Entourage connection to the deceased!”
Greer lifts a finger. “Didn’t we all.”
“What?” I gasp as I pull her in. “Did you? I mean youdidn’t,right? Dr. Dawson?”
She scratches the back of her neck as she looks to Winslow. “Honey, why don’t you round up Lea and Cookie? It’s almost time to haunt dinner.”
Winslow zips off at supersonic speeds, and Greer shakes her head.
“Have you ever seen an obedient man like that? I’m telling you, I have a national dead treasure on my hands.” She makes a face. “I’m not sure if I’m breaking any rules as far as helping you with the case, but, yes, he was a client. Let’s just say playing doctor was his specialty. He had a very twisted mind.” She giggles as if she approved. “So it sounds like Aspen is filling the void I left. I don’t remember her being so prominent within the organization. EE is broken off into tiers, and she was a bottom feeder at the time. Platonic dates only. They get paid the least, of course. But if she was seeing Morgan, then it sounds as if she moved up in the ranks, if you know what I mean.”
“Did Morgan ever say anything to you? I mean, is there anything you remember that might have seemed off?”
“Not at all. He was a fantastic tipper, and I never had to share that with the house.” She does a little floating tap dance. “In fact”—she plucks at her dress—“I bought this snazzy little number with one of his special bonuses.”
Carlotta buzzes with a quiet laugh. “Not exactly a good luck charm, was he?”
I look out at the crowd and spot Keelie talking to Aspen. “This is my chance. Wish me luck, ladies!” I take off and hop right into their midst. “Aspen! You look fantastic tonight. Loving the heels.” She’s head to toe in a denim dress, denim heels to match. Both of my half-sisters, Kelleth and Aspen, are pretty blondes. Aspen has always reminded me of a blonde Betty Boop, a bit taller, and for sure a lot snobbier, too.
“Thank you.” It comes out curt and laden with suspicion. Her puffy lips purse with disdain my way.
“Okay”—my demeanor hardens—“because you’re my sister, I’m going to cut right to the chase. I know you work for the Elite Entourage, and I know what you really do with those men.”
Her eyelids flip up like roller shades.