Page 53 of Poison Apple Crisp
Noah walks up behind her with his dimples digging in and out.
“Lottie.” He pulls me in lands a kiss to my cheek. “How are you feeling?”
“Great. A little hungry, but that can wait.”
Ivy growls out a tiny laugh. “Call me a prognosticator, but I knew we’d eventually get here. Noah here tells me you’re really expecting this time. I suppose what happened last month was merely a dress rehearsal.”
Last month, Carlotta started a rumor that I was knocked up. And as fate would have it, that rumor turned out to be true.
“Yes, I am expecting.” My hand lands protectively over my stomach in hopes to shield my sweet child from Poison Ivy’s ramblings. “And I’m very excited.”
“As am I,” Noah adds.
Ivy chuckles to herself. “As is Everett, I hear. So how is this going to work? Noah says it’s Everett’s turn with you. What happens if Noah is the father? You dump Everett and Noah moves in?”
My mouth opens as I look to Noah.
He shakes his head. “Lottie and I are complicated. I screwed up. I’m the one that put the crack in the armor, and Everett was right there to catch her when she fell. If that baby is mine, it will all work out the way it’s supposed to. The rest is entirely up to Lottie. I’m not fighting her for anything. And I refuse to use our child as a bargaining chip in hopes to rekindle a romantic relationship with her.”
I press my lips tightly, and my chest bucks. “Noah.” I wrap my arms around him as all of the pent-up emotion I’ve been feeling for the past few weeks comes flooding to the surface. And I weep, right here in the sheriff’s department, in front of God, the deputies, and Ivy.
“Here we go with the waterworks.” She sighs. “I’ll trust you to tell me what you find, Detective Fox.” And with that, she does a disappearing act.
“I meant every word,” he whispers. “We’re going to be okay. And we’re going to come out stronger. Whatever that might mean.” He lands a kiss to my temple. “Come on, Lot. Let’s get to the lab and see what this is all about so we can get some food in you afterwards.”
We head around the building just as Everett pulls up.
“Lemon.” He pulls me in. “What’s happening with Evie? Is everything okay? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. As far as Evie goes, I have no idea. Carlotta has her involved with something, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s more dangerous than a street gang and the mob combined.”
Everett’s brows swoop low, and it’s a vexingly comely look that ignites that insatiable heat inside of me. Darn hormones.
“We’ll get to the bottom of it.” He nods to Noah. “Lead the way.”
We head into the lab with its steel countertops and white glossy floors. The scent of antiseptic slightly burns my nostrils, and the sight of all those lockers filled with evidence sends my stomach spinning for reasons unknown. There’s an air of something nefarious lurking just below the surface, and yet a layer of ache as if those bits and pieces of evidence were somehow crying out for justice all on their own.
A couple of men in white lab coats bring out the envelope in question on a steel platter and provide Noah with a razor sharp letter opener and a pair of tweezers. He dons a pair of gloves and gets straight to work.
“Here goes nothing,” Noah says as he carefully slices the envelope open.
He pulls a letter out and unfolds it carefully.
Both Everett and I lean in to get a better look.
Written in shaky handwriting, it reads:
Mrs. Waters,
Deliver $200,000 to the split rock trail if you ever want to see her again. Unmarked one hundred dollar bills only. Once the money is deemed worthy of acceptance, she will be turned over to a public establishment. Ignore this, and she dies.
“A ransom note,” I pant. The T’s are crossed at a severe angle, and the letter A is written with a curlicue on the end of it.
“Mrs. Waters.” Everett gives my hand a squeeze. “That was Robin Meadows’ mother—Desmond’s wife.”
Noah nods. “Ramilda Waters. She’s the one that ended up with the kids afterwards.”
I angle in to get a better look at the note.