Page 42 of Poison Apple Crisp
“That right,” I say. “I bet it’s her stage name.”
Meg shakes her head. “That’s no dancer, Lottie. Hannah Beckham is one of the most sought-after workout instructors in all of Vermont. Her tagline islet’s put some thump in your rump. She’s a gluteus maximus specialist.”
“Specialist?” I ask. “Don’t tell me they hand out degrees for this stuff.”
Meg shrugs. “She’s a PhD. It was an honorary degree.”
“Honorary?” Carlotta gasps. “That’s the most important degree of them all.”
Keelie grabs ahold of her bottom with both hands. “I can’t wait to turn this marshmallow into a bootyful rock hard display of gluteus maximus perfection. Carlotta, help me get signed up as soon as I can.”
“Just show up tomorrow,” Carlotta is quick to offer Hannah another devotee.
“I’m in.” Meg raises a hand. “I’ve been meaning to track her down. Last I heard she was offering classes in Hollyhock.”
“The two of you can’t do that,” I say. “You’ll be encouraging a public nuisance.”
Keelie offers a forlorn smile my way. “Don’t worry, Lottie. You’ll be at the bakery whipping up sweet treats for those people who don’t care about getting their rear into gear.”
“Or any thump in their rump.” Carlotta nods. “And I’ll keep an eye on Foxy and Sexy for you.” Her fingers touch her lips. “Come to think of it, I’ll have to keep an eye out on Harry, too. That man can winnow out a flock of women faster than an early bird can snatch up a worm.”
“Margo has agreed to open the bakery for me for the next week or so. Indefinitely if I wanted it,” I tell them. It’s true. Everett was at the heart of those negotiations. “I was supposed to be sleeping in.” Although, technically, waking up at six rather than four might just qualify. “I really need to find a way to stop this woman,” I say but Keelie, Meg, and Carlotta are all too busy jiggling their hineys in an effort to see who has the most wiggle in their walk.
Baby Bear snags my attention as he pulls his tiny arms over his head and stretches to life adorably.
By this time next year, I’m going to have my very own baby to take care of—just as soft, and sweet, and vulnerable. Tears come to my eyes, and a giant baby-shaped boulder knots up in my throat. How could the authorities possibly let just anybody take one of these tiny creatures home from the hospital without any certification, or license, or research study to do so? It’s the equivalent of receiving an honorary parenting degree just because you pushed a sweet angel out of your body. It doesn’t seem right. It seems horrifying is what it seems. How do those doctors and nurses know that I can be trusted with an infant? How can anyone be trusted with someone so very fragile?
Evie comes over and hands me one of my individually portioned apple crisps, and I indulge in every bite.
“You’re getting too deep into your head, Mom.” She bumps her hip to mine. “Forget about those fit and toned women bending over in all sorts of provocative positions in our neighborhood. I’m sure Uncle Noah and Dad won’t even notice them after a couple of months or years. You just focus on that baby.” She wrinkles her nose. “On second thought, that baby isn’t going to get here any quicker if you think about it twenty-four seven. Try to think about that woman who was poisoned at the fundraiser. I bet you’re already close to solving that one.” She takes off to load up on more carbs, and I think on it a moment.
I’m not even close to solving this one. Alyssa did mention that Rachelle stood up to Brenda when they first met—and that shortly thereafter she and Rachelle were inseparable. Maybe Brenda found some dirt on Rachelle? She certainly had dirt on Alyssa.
I think back on that argument Alyssa and Brenda had before Brenda was killed, back when they were reduced to their shoes in lieu of proper names, Gold Buckles and Pinky.
Alyssa told her,“I don’t care what the hell you think you have on me. You don’t threaten me in my own house.”
Brenda came back with,“When I’m through with you, not only won’t you be able to show your face in Honey Hollow, you’ll be looking to relocate from Vermont.”
It makes sense now that I know Alyssa’s backstory. Brenda wanted to control Alyssa by way of her past.
What if she was doing the same to Rachelle?
Lucky for me, my mother’s game night is coming right up, and I’ll get to ask Rachelle myself.
Chapter 12
The next few mornings it’s nothing but a bouncing booty party on my new neighbor’s front lawn. And not only is Hannah defying her new neighbors’ wishes to cease and desist, or in the least take it to the local gym, she’s garnered an army of yoga wearing enthusiasts that include Carlotta, my mother, Meg, Cressida, and Cormack.Ugh. Doubleugh. There are only a few things that grate on my nerves, and peppy people who want to genuflect at unforgivably early hours of the morning are one of them.
But that nightmare isn’t unfolding at the moment. It’s a good thirteen hours after that posterior trauma, and I’m staring up at my mother’s quaint B&B.
Not so long ago my mother’s bed and breakfast was once a struggling endeavor.
It was where she and my father, Joseph Lemon, honeymooned all those years ago. And after he passed away, she took the insurance money and bought the place. She fixed it up, moved into the owner’s unit to save money, and gave it the old college try, but this place was taking a long drive on the struggle bus for as long as I can remember.
Then came the ghosts. It was well after the first murder in Honey Hollow, well after my powers began to enliven and come into their own, that Greer Giles, a woman who was murdered right here in town, came back to help me with yet another case. And instead of floating off to paradise afterwards like the other disembodied spirits had done, she decided to get herself a ghostly boyfriend and hang out at the B&B indefinitely.
I’m still not sure why Greer and her cute boy toy, Winslow Decker, get to remain on the planet, but that’s none of my mortal business. I’m glad they’re here. And I’m more than glad they’re my friends. They also sort of adopted the ghost of a little girl named Lea and a black cat who has spent all his nine lives named Thirteen. They’ve certainly helped my mother out. Without the haunted Honey Hollow tours she runs through this place, she most likely would have gone under by now. Outside of the B&B, the only place for tourists or visitors to stay in town is at the Evergreen Manor. It used to be that my mother got the Evergreen’s runoff as far as guests go, but these days it’s the other way around.