Page 4 of Donut Disaster

Everett takes a breath. “And it will be murder.”

Chapter 2

Murder.

My blood runs cold as soon as the words leave Everett’s lips.

It’s true. I’ve seen the ghosts of the dearly departed for as far back as when I was a child, usually pets that have come back to warn of some horrible event that’s about to strike their old owner, but on occasion I’ve seen a deceased human or two as well. It used to mean something simple—a scraped knee, a twisted ankle—but as of late, it most definitely means a homicide is afoot.

Noah takes off to find Ivy. Detective Ivy Fairbanks is his partner in the homicide division down at the Ashford Sheriff’s Department. Of course, I invited her. I had to. Ivy isn’t my favorite person nor am I hers. She’s condescending and a bit snide, and I’m pretty sure she has a mean crush on Noah. She’s a redheaded beauty that makes busting crime in four-inch stilettos look as effortless as breathing.

Everett leans in. “Who do you think it is, Lemon? Where’s the dog? What kind of dog was it?”

Everett has called me by my surname for as long as I can remember. We met last September when I was a defendant in his courtroom and he wisely sided with me. He was a notorious playboy who danced the mattress mambo with more women than there are that populate the great state of Vermont. And for whatever reason, those women who have landed horizontally with him all walk away with a unique door prize—the ability to call him by his first name. I’m not sure why Everett is mostly abhorrent to being calledEssex—his mother and sister are exempt from this rule since they’ve been calling him Essex since birth. But he made it clear when we met that I was to call him Everett, and even though we’ve mamboed on mattresses, showers, and sofas alike, I’ve stuck to the moniker I’ve grown accustomed to.

“I don’t know where he went. He’s huge, though, and he has black shiny fur. He was friendly, I guess. But he didn’t say anything.”

Oddly enough, my powers have been growing. A few months back, my dead granny Nell came to help me solve a murder and she told me in no uncertain terms that my powers would indeed be flourishing. She also mentioned that I might see her again on this side of the celestial divide and, believe you me, nothing would make me happier. For a very long while, Nell was the only one who knew I could see the dead. Little did I know that whole time she could see them, too.

“All right. Don’t worry.” Everett takes a breath. “I have a feeling this is going to play itself out one way or another. Maybe you should stay put? That way at least you won’t find another body.”

I cringe at the thought. It’s true. I’ve found eleven bodies in eleven months. All of Honey Hollow is beginning to think I’m cursed.

Everett cranes his neck into the crowd just as Meg and her boyfriend Hook come up.

Meg has dyed her blonde locks jet-black and it looks stunning juxtaposed against her ice-blue eyes. She used to be in the female wrestling circuit down in Vegas but came back to Honey Hollow last spring. Hook is a good-looking cast-off from Wall Street who now runs his father’s real estate empire, Redwood Realty.

“What’s this?” Meg cackles. “Did I hear you say she’s about to find another body?”

Meg thinks my talent for stumbling upon the dead is hilarious. Side note: I am not laughing.

Hook socks Everett on the arm. “Dude, I hear you’ve got some competition. Britney just told us she’s ready to sign the divorce papers, and Noah said the first thing he’s going to do is take back Lottie.”

I scoff at the thought. “I’m not a possession. Nobody is going totakeme.” Although, Noah was pretty proficient in taking me in the bedroom. I’m more than certain that’s exactly what he would like most for his birthday—a pizza from Mangias and me standing naked in his living room.

Meg leans in. “What about the killer?”

“They’re not taking me either.” For one, I never owned a large black dog. I may have wanted one, but right about now, I’m thankful that little childhood dream never came true. “Have you heard from Lainey?” My older sister, Lainey, got married last month and she’s on the tail end of her honeymoon. Every now and again she’ll send a text, but they are few and far between, separated by long bouts of silence.

“Nope. But guess what? Their new house just closed this afternoon, and I’ve got the keys.”

A sharp gasp erupts behind her as Mom and Pastor Gaines join us.

Mom is a bouncy blonde who looks twenty years younger than her true age. She bought a run-down B&B after my adoptive father, Joseph Lemon, died way back when, and she’s nurtured it into a successful business. I’d say she did it all on her own, but she had the help of a couple of ghosts—Greer Giles, a girl about my age who was murdered a few months back, and her two-hundred-year-old boy toy, Winslow Decker. They’ve adopted a cute little poltergeist as of late, so the B&B is really shaking and quaking these days. My mother, being the astute businesswoman she is, has put together what she calls the Haunted Honey Hollow Bed and Breakfast Tour, and she sells tickets at eighty dollars a pop. And after the tourists have the socks frightened right off them, she sends the tour bus down to my bakery for what she likes to call the Last Thing They Ate Tour.

It’s true. The bodies I find often have the remnants of one of my sweet treats on their person. It’s morbid, and terrible, and sadly, it’s boosted business through the roof. Whatever the deceased last noshed on becomes an instant sensation overnight, and I have to amp up production just to keep up with the demand.

Meg nods at my mother. “Amanda Wellington just gave me the keys to Lainey and Forest’s new house.” Amanda Wellington as in the party planner who Cormack handed her American Express Black Card to in honor of Noah’s big birthday bash. Amanda also works for Redwood Realty. She’s hoping her event business will take off and be enough to sustain her one day.

Meg gets a devilish gleam in her eye. “I say we TP the place and dump concrete in the toilets.”

“Meg.” I roll my eyes to Everett. “Of course, she’s teasing—I hope.”

“Nonsense.” Mom looks to Pastor Gaines.

Pastor Stephen Gaines is relatively new in Honey Hollow—and definitely a new addition to my mother’s boyfriend collection. Up until a few weeks ago, she was seeing my biological father, Mayor Harry Nash. We just learned about his paternity a little over a month ago, so you can see where their relationship got a little weird, fast. Currently, Mayor Nash is dating my biological mother, Carlotta Sawyer. She’s a character, a peach, and a pill all rolled into one. Come to think of it, so is he. Honestly, I can’t see that good time lasting too much longer. The two of them might just be too similar in their naughty nature.

“Stephen”—my mother flirts with her throaty tone—“if you’re free tomorrow, I’d love for you to come by and say a blessing over the house.”