Page 7 of Peach Cobbler Confessions
Carlotta continues with her yodeling routine, and soon we’re swarmed with every public servant under the sun—or more to the point, under the roof of the Ashford Country Civic Center.
Noah and his partner down at the homicide division, Ivy Fairbanks, a leggy redhead with a no-nonsense personality and perhaps a genuine dislike for yours truly, head this way.
Noah pulls me into his arms. “Lottie, are you okay? What the hell happened?”
“He was just lying there.” I glance over at the poor man with a bloodstain over his heart. “I think he—I think he was shot.”
Ivy growls, “And I see he was eating dessert. Yours, I presume?”
I cower a moment without meaning to.
“Hey,” Noah says it curt but low to his partner. “Lottie is in a delicate state. I don’t think this is the time to harass her. I think we both know she didn’t have anything to do with this.”
“Delicate state?” Ivy tips her head, amused. “Don’t tell me one of your suitors actually managed to plant a seed in your womb. Was it you, Fox? Did you beat Judge Baxter to the paternity punch?”
“No,” I answer for him. “And before you get excited, it wasn’t Everett either.” I glance around to find that Carlotta and Collette have drifted and taken Everett with them. “Look, I gotta go,” I say, speeding that way.
“Don’t leave town,” Ivy shouts after me.
“Collette,” I hiss as I take up Everett’s hand. We found out, quite by accident, some time ago that I act as a conduit of sorts. If Everett holds my hand, he can hear the dead, too. Carlotta shares my quirky gift, so she doesn’t need to hold onto anything, not even her sanity. “What’s a dead girl like you doing in a place like this?”
Collette scoffs over at me. “Ask the one who gave me the poison concoction to drink to begin with.”
She’s not wrong. I was the one whipping up pumpkin spiced lattes for an awards ceremony she was being honored at—an event eerily similar to this one.
“You and I both know I’m not the one that poisoned you,” I say it measured because this isn’t the time to flip my lid on a ghost, of all people. “Did you know the deceased?”
Outside of the ghosts who haunt my mother’s B&B, most every other spook I run into has a specific mission to help me solve the case at hand. And the only reason they’re here to begin with is because they have a direct connection to the deceased. More to the point, the homicide victim in question once held a special affinity to the poltergeist.
“Dane Gannon.” Collette shivers when she says his name. “You could say I knew him.”
Carlotta nods to her. “You knew him in the carnal sense, didn’t you?”
A quick huff expels from me. “Who didn’t she know in the carnal sense?”
Collette straightens. “Lottie Lemon.”
“What?” I balk. “I investigated your case. I know all about your trysts down in the Jungle Room.” The Jungle Room is a sick little love den located underneath the Red Satin Gentlemen’s Club. It’s basically a club within a club. A coitally minded one at that. Although, I guess the gentlemen’s club isn’t too far off in that area either.
“It’s true.” Everett lifts a brow as he looks in her general direction. “Lemon brought your killer to justice.” He leans in. “You wouldn’t happen to know who killed Dane, would you?”
Collette snorts. “No, but I wish I was there to cheer them on. I may have been his most prized ex, but that man had it coming.”
“I’ll say.” I scoot in a notch. “I saw not one butthreedifferent people have an aggressive exchange with him during the awards ceremony.” I tell them everything I saw with Ridge Porter, his girlfriend, Jude Archibald, and the mysterious blonde woman who slapped him.
Everett takes a deep breath. “I’d better let Noah in on this.” He plants a kiss to my forehead. “Carlotta, please get Lottie to a seat and maybe find her a glass of water.”
“Ooh!” Carlotta claps her hands. “I almost forgot all about Lot Lot’s womb being filled to the baby brim.”
Everett takes off, and I swat Carlotta on the arm.
“I am not filled to the baby brim. How dare you start rumors.”
Collette Jenner gasps and a sprinkling of miniature stars sparkle around her hair. “Lottie, are you knocked up?”
Carlotta nods. “And she’s married to Essex.”
“Wow!” Collette floats up a few notches. “You’ve done the impossible. You’ve tamed the untamable. And now you’re having his baby? You really are living the dream.”