Page 22 of Poison Apple Crisp
Both Everett and I jump out of bed, and I throw my robe on while Everett does his best to dance into his boxers. I flick on the light and grab that trusty Glock Everett and Noah gifted me a while ago that I aptly nicknamed Ethel.
“I’d ditch the gun, Lemon,” he pants. “It might be Carlotta. She might have forgotten something and come back.”
Makes sense. Whenever Everett spends the night, I ask Carlotta to sleep in Everett’s spare bedroom next door so that Evie won’t be alone. And while his theory could hold water, I don’t like the way any of that sounded.
I decide to hang onto Ethel while Everett rushes into the hall in front of me, and we see a flash of light go off as a shadow runs out of the house. An icy breeze whistles in, and I scream bloody murder while brandishing Ethel at my poor cats.
“Lemon, get out of the house,” Everett thunders. “There might be someone else here.” He navigates us out onto the porch, and the sound of footfalls comes from our right as that shadow darts across the street just past Noah’s cabin.
Everett races that way, and I’m right behind him, screaming as if someone just set my hair on fire.
Noah runs out in nothing but a pair of boxers himself, and in his hand is his government-issued weapon.
“What’s going on?” he riots as he does his best to transcend the wailing emitting from my throat.
“Intruder!” I stretch the word out fast as a bullet train, and without warning, Noah fires his gun near Everett’s feet.
Everett jumps backward. “What the hell are you doing?” he riots.
A few of the neighbors’ lights go on, and I can feel the weight of their stares.
“Lottie Dottie!” Carlotta wails as she and Evie run this way.
“Everett?” Noah takes a few blind steps forward, his weapon still very much drawn and aiming to please.
“Yes! It’s me. Put that thing down,” Everett shouts as if he’s about to start a prison riot.
Noah runs over and grabs ahold of me. “Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”
“Stay here, Evie,” Everett barks before coming my way. “Give me your gun, Lemon. I’m going back to check the house.” He takes Ethel from me and darts across the street.
“Lottie”—Noah pants hard, his breath pluming out like smoke—“what happened?”
“We were asleep.” I look to both Evie and Carlotta shivering in their PJ’s. “And I heard a noise. And then I heard it again and again. Everett thought it might be Carlotta, but when we got into the hall, we saw a shadow running out of the house and we followed it this way. I guess they took off into the woods.”
Noah glances back at the green belt of pine trees that hugs the cul-de-sac. “They might still be out here. Why don’t the three of you head to Everett’s? Get warm. Try to get some sleep if you can. I’m going to call this in. Chances are they’ve already taken off, but they might be waiting it out to see if we’ll leave first.”
We head across the street together, and Carlotta and Evie stay at the base of my driveway while Noah and I head up the porch.
Just a few days ago, Everett and Noah pulled the fall decorations out of my attic while Evie, Carlotta, and I festooned the porch, outlining the door with silk maple leaves. We went down to the local pumpkin patch and bought a few of those happy orange globes, and we even convinced Everett to haul a few bales of hay over to give it that homey autumn appeal we love so much. My house looks so adorable, so innocent, and I just hate that it—thatwewere so blatantly violated.
The house is lit up as bright as a football field as Everett comes out shaking his head.
“They’re gone.”
Pancake and Waffles wander to the door, and I quickly scoop up Pancake as Evie takes Waffles.
“Come here, you fat, furry beast.” She lands a kiss right over his nose. “You scared me to death! I thought a robber took off with you. God knows you’re the only valuable thing in that house. Sorry, Mom, but it’s the truth.”
“No apology necessary. And you’re right,” I say, peering inside cautiously.
It looks as if a few knickknacks were knocked off the sofa table, a tall ceramic vase I keep near the door is lying on its side, but outside of that, I don’t notice anything out of place.
“What do you think they wanted?” I ask as I hold Pancake close to keep me warm.
“No idea.” Noah gives the back of his neck a slap. “Why don’t you go on in, Lottie? I’m guessing they came in through the front door since the windows are intact. If they wore gloves, we won’t find prints, and at this point, I think we should be glad they took off.”
I glance to the coffee table and something seems off, and just as I’m about to scour my brain, it hits me.