Page 54 of Poison Apple Crisp
“I guess this implies they weren’t planning on killing Robin.” I pull out my phone and take a picture of the note before Noah can stop me.
“Or pretend they weren’t going to kill her.” Noah puts the letter away and seals it back up in the evidence bag. “Whoever had this book didn’t open that letter.”
Everett nods. “It begs the question if they knew it was there to begin with. Or if they knew exactly what it said because they wrote it.”
I look up at him. “Maybe they knew it was there, and they knew not opening it would make the book more valuable?”
Everett considers this. “Possible. But human nature dictates otherwise.”
We leave the lab and head back to Honey Hollow with more questions than we came with.
Someone killed Brenda Phillips. Someone stole that autographed copy of Desmond Meadows’ book from my house. And someone wrote that letter.
So many mysteries. And perhaps the biggest mystery of all is whether or not all three are tied together.
Wouldn’t it be something if they were?
Stranger things have happened.
Chapter 15
The next day, Everett tells me to dress to the nines for an early dinner that he promised I wouldn’t soon forget. And all day I dream about the perfect date with just Everett and me. It’s been so long since we’ve done anything like this, I think we’re due. Although, just cuddling up on my sofa next to a roaring fire while sipping on hot apple cider is a dream date with him as far as I’m concerned.
But once I hear Carlotta and Evie shouting at one another to hurry up and get ready for the big surprise, I get the feeling Everett and I won’t be alone for this adventure.
Both Carlotta and Evie run in and out of my bathroom, dipping into my makeup cache, raiding my closet at record speeds as if they were getting ready for prom, and the whole scene leaves me suspicious. Although, I think it’s adorable Evie would even bother to open my closet. Her wardrobe puts mine to shame in both style and girth. But she borrows a scarf, and it makes the little black dress she’s wearing look a touch more modest. But just a touch.
And Carlotta indeed looks as if she’s headed to prom—the eighties edition with a white lace number and fingerless lace gloves to match. Don’t get me started on the hundreds of black rubber bracelets she’s wearing.
Hey? Maybe we’re not going to a snazzy restaurant? Maybe we’re headed to karaoke, and Carlotta plans on nailing those Madonna songs to a wall?
But when Noah comes over in a sleek dark suit and offers to drive Carlotta and Evie to the venue, I realize this was never a one-on-one date between Everett and me to begin with. I guess it was wishful thinking on my part, but I’ll admit, I’m more than happy to have dinner with everyone I love.
Everett looks lethally handsome in his standard-issue dark, inky suit set off by his red and gold striped tie as he drives us for nearly forty minutes over dark highways while I ogle him freely from the side.
“You know, I was kind of hoping it’d just be you and me tonight.” I was thinking it, so I figured I might as well say it. “I’m craving a little alone time with you that requires us to get all dressed up and have a good time. Not that we don’t have a good time when we’re not wearing any clothes. In fact, one could argue that’s my favorite way to have a good time with you.”
“I’ll make sure it happens.” His lips curl up one side, and he’s got that look in his eye that lets me know he’s envisioning exactly how and when it will happen.
“Which part? The going out or the naked time?”
“Both.” He sheds a short-lived grin my way. “But tonight,” he winces, “I’m almost afraid to let you in on too many details.”
“Wow, this must really be scary, because the Judge Baxter I know isn’t afraid of anything. What’s on the spooky agenda?”
He glowers as he looks out the windshield. “My mother will be joining us.”
“Is that all?” I slap my knee, filled with relief. “I happen to love Eliza. And since when are you afraid of your mother?”
He shakes his head, his eyes never leaving the highway. “It’s not my mother I’m worried about. It’s Noah’s.”
I take in such a sharp breath, and I nearly inhale the pendant dangling from my necklace—an adorable rose goldrosethat my mother gifted me for Christmas.
“Suze is coming? Why on God’s green earth did you have to involve her? Have I mentioned that I’m wearing an eighty-five dollar dress from the Scarlet Sage Boutique? And heels—in my condition? Suze is so not worthy of heels on any given day of the week.”
A horrible moan comes from me.
“What’s the matter, Lemon? Is it your morning sickness? Is it hitting you hard right now? We could turn around. I’ll have us in bed within twenty minutes.”