Page 58 of Poison Apple Crisp

Dear God, is there a number where I can reach this boogey man so he can hide under Carlotta’s bed tonight and silence her into submission once and for all? Never mind the fact that sheisthe boogey man.Myboogey man to be exact.

Eliza’s mouth falls open as she looks to the woman who bore me, and it’s clear she’s the one who’s been stunned into submission. At this point in the night, it may not be a bad thing for every single one of us.

Is it too cruel to hope for an acute, yet violent, bout of food poisoning to put an abrupt end to this meal?

Everett leans my way and whispers, “I know that look on your face. You’re contemplating murder.”

“Just contemplating my options,” I whisper back.

Carlotta squints at him.“You’d better up your game, Mr. Sexy. Lot told us back at the bakery all about the fact you’re not hitting it out of the park as of late.”

Noah perks up. “What’s this about?”

“Whatisthis about?” Everett asks as he looks my way.

A breath hitches in my throat.

It’s been confirmed. I’m going to kill Carlotta. In fact, I’ll spend the rest of the evening plotting her death. In the dark speck that this day has evolved into, Carlotta’s untimely demise is the lone bright light.

“She’s right,” Evie says, stabbing at her lasagna. “Mom said she can’t get enough of you, Dad, and not even that cure you keep trying to give her is working.” She sayscurein air quotes. “Should I stab myself in the eye now? Or wait until after dessert? Choices,choices.”

“I’ll join you.” I glare over at Carlotta. “Any other sparkling dinner conversation you’d like to unload on us?”

She looks out the window just past me. “Nah. I think we’ve let enough cats out of the bag for one night.” She winks over at Evie, and Evie gives a rather enthusiastic thumbs-up.

“All right, you two.” I smear a greedy smile over my face, and I don’t care at all if I look like a lunatic. “We’re going to take a little trip to the ladies’ room together.”

“Not me.” Evie shovels in another bite of lasagna and swallows in haste. “I haven’t had food this good since I was held captive at Ellington.”

“Fine.” I hop out of my seat and pluck Carlotta to her feet as I shuffle her off to the far end of the cart. “Is there any part of you at all that’s in her right mind? Because if not, I can toss you overboard and we can see if that fixes anything.”

“You can’t fix crazy,” she snips with a look of fear in her eyes.

“At least you admit it,” I say. “Now tell me exactly what you’re cooking up with Evie. What’s this get-popular-fast scheme you’ve concocted? And don’t for a minute think I’m going to approve.”

She yanks her arm loose. “I wasn’t callingmecrazy. I was callingyoucrazy. You’re with child. This whole evening has been a success. Why, I bet in your paranoid mind you think this night has been nothing but a train wreck.” She taps my arm. “See what I did there?Train wreck.”

A severe roll of nausea squeezes my stomach tight like a boiling cauldron.

“Carlotta, your little gaslighting routine isn’t going to work. This nightisa train wreck.Youare a train wreck.” I grab her by the arms and give her a throttle. “Now tell me exactly what it is you’re doing with my daughter.”

“Excuse me?” A stalky, bald gentleman splices us apart with his arm as he looks to Carlotta. “Is this woman threatening you?”

“Yes.” Carlotta doesn’t miss a beat. “And I demand you make her walk the plank.”

“Ignore her,” I tell him just before I freeze solid.

It’s him! It’s Martin Smulder himself trying to play the part of bouncer to Carlotta’s delusions. And as if on cue, as if my own epiphany had the power to summon her, Ginger pops to life in a puff of orange smoke.

“Oh, have we found them, Lottie?” She yips and barks every single word out, which begs the question, is she speaking English or am I suddenly garnering the ability to translate doggy speak?

I shake my head over at her.

“Oh, poop.” She wags her little pink tongue. “Things were just getting heated with Waffles and me. He reminds me so much of my Emmet. It goes without saying, I have a weak spot for Pancake, too. It’s as if that entire love triangle has been resurrected. Remind me to tell you one day who I finally settled on—and who the father of my litter was.” She floats over to the man before us and sniffs his neck. “But first, let’s avenge the blood of my poor Brenda. I don’t think this man smells like a killer, Lottie. We had a corgi on my street named Killer and he smelled like kibble and dandelions.”

I press my lips tightly before looking to Brenda’s old fiancé.

“Martin.” My tone softens as if we were old friends, and he looks momentarily confused. “We met at the night of the fundraiser at Honey Hollow High. I was the baker. Still am.” I offer a sheepish laugh as I struggle to get ahold of my senses.