Page 45 of Poison Apple Crisp
“Rachelle,” I say brightly as I pull a cup off the table, and my hands drift toward the coffee.
“Hey, Lottie.” A smile bounces on her face. A dark crimson line sits just above her platinum hair at the roots. She has those adorable beach waves as it cuts off just past her neck, and her skin and lips are almost a matching pale shade. She’s donned a tight orange turtleneck with a brown cashmere sweater over it, and it looks like the perfect fall combination. “I think you want the decaf.” She points me in the opposite direction.
“Oh, you’re right.” I squeeze my eyes shut tight a moment. “Would you think I was a bad mother if I told you that half the time I forget that I’m carrying an entire human inside of me?”
She bucks with a laugh. “Nope. I think I’d forget, too, at least until I started to show.”
“You’re right. I guess at that point I’ll have my tummy to remind me I’ve got a baby on board. So how do you like being a stepmom? Was that an adjustment?”
“Not really.” Her thin lips flex up and down. “Amber is so easy going, and she was hungry for a mom. Her own mother met some biker and moved a couple of states away to help run his shop. She was one of those women who was never all that into being a mother to begin with.”
“Same with my Evie. Her mother more or less used her as a bargaining chip in hopes to land my husband for herself. But in typical Cressida fashion, she played her cards wrong from the beginning.”
“Excuse me. Linda?” the sharp cry of a socialite chirps from behind, and I close my eyes a minute too long.
I turn around to see Cressida Bentley herself in all her blonde, glitz and glam glory. With that silver sequin gown she has on, you’d think she was headed to the Oscars.
“Rachelle”—I take a deep breath—“this is Cressida Bentley, the woman who brought Evie into this world.”
“Everly—I broughtEverlyinto this world,” Cressida corrects with a touch of annoyance. “I don’t appreciate the way you and Essex insist on getting her name wrong.”
“It’s the name she prefers,” I point out.
Cressida’s nostrils flare. “Andthat,Lauralee Lemonade, is how you spoil a child.” She stalks off in the direction of the trivia table.
“I believe you spoil a child by giving them carte blanche access to your American Express Black Card!” I call out, but Cressida doesn’t even bother lifting a dicey finger in response. Instead, I spot her wrapping an entire arm around Everett, and he quickly gives her a look that could kill. I spot Cormack there, too, pawing all over Noah like he belongs to her and I can’t help but glower.
Rachelle leans my way. “Did that woman just call you by two different names?”
“She did. Both she and her ridiculous best friend love to call me everything under the letter L sun. That is, but my own name, of course.” I make a face. “They’ve been after my men for a very long time.”
She giggles into her coffee. “I’ve got to hand it to you, Lottie. I’m in awe of your relationship prowess. And don’t you dare step back from this. Don’t let there be any shame in your dating game.”
A laugh bucks from me. “I guess there hasn’t been yet. But I’m with Everett now. He’s my husband.”
She shrugs. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but Cokie mentioned Detective Fox—Noah—might be the baby’s father. That must make things tricky with your feelings, to say the least.”
I bring the coffee to my lips. “Trickier than you ever want to know or experience. Honestly, my head or my heart can’t process any of it right now.”
“So if Noah ends up being the father, will he move in with you and Everett?”
“Oh, Everett and I don’t live together. We haven’t come to that point in our relationship yet. But he lives right next door, and Noah lives across the street. So far it’s working out just fine.” I press my lips together as I try to figure out how to segue to the case.
A sprinkling of glittering pink stars appears next to Rachelle’s head, and soon Ginger blinks to life. And just below her furry little paws is Thirteen, looking perfectly content with the fact he has a pretty little Pom on his back.
“How’s it going, Lottie?” Ginger gives a few quick barks. “Have you caught the killer?”
I shake my head just enough.
Thirteen lets out a yowl as sparks and stars emit from his mouth.
“Well, move things along,” he insists. “Ask her if she did it. If she denies it, ask her who it could be.” He lets out a tiny meow at the end for emphasis.
Ginger nips his ear. “Now why would you want her to move things along? The quicker the killer is caught, the quicker I’m sent back to paradise.” She murmurs something into his ear, and Thirteen lifts his head a notch.
“On second thought, Lottie, ask how she takes her coffee.”
Ginger chortles. “That’s more like it, big boy. Now give me that tour of your private chambers like you were threatening me with. Quick, before little Lea lops off our heads like she promised.”