Page 13 of Toxic Apple Turnovers
Carlotta is quick to mock my laughter. “He’s here for a homicide. Don’t you love it?”
“Oh, you.” I swat her before turning my attention back to the bird. “Who do you think killed Amanda, Owlbert?” Again. So much fun to say.
He lets out a couple who-whos. “Those men who were at the party. I don’t get a good feeling about them.”
“Me either. I’ll be sure to check each one out. And the girls, too.” I wince. “But that sister.” I shrug over at Nell. “She came by the bakery on Sunday and offered me six grand to hunt down her sister’s killer. Of course, I turned it down.”
Carlotta scoffs. “Of course, you’re an idiot.”
I shake my head, choosing to ignore her. “I told Noah and Everett about it. They thought it was a clear act of desperation. In fact, Everett said he’s surprised I haven’t drummed up more business in that manner by now.”
“No, no,” Carlotta says, staring at the carpet deep in thought. “She’s trying to throw you off her scent. She’s your killer.”
Owlbert shrieks. “Not my precious Hazel!” He flaps his wings, and the one closest to Nell’s face goes right through her.
“I don’t think so either. But I’ll keep that in mind.”
The sound of men talking as they enter the foyer gets my attention, and I glance back to confirm it’s Noah and Everett. I turn back to say something to Nell, but both she and Owlbert have up and disappeared.
“Great,” I mutter to Carlotta, who inconveniently never disappears—anymore, that is. She disappeared for twenty-six years, but something tells me I won’t be that lucky again. Kidding. Sort of.
She leans into the direction of the dining room. “I hear Harry.” And with that, she takes off like a greyhound at the track after a gunshot.
I step over to Noah and Everett who both look dashing tonight. Everett is in his signature dark inky suit, bright red tie, fitting for fall. And Noah is in his chinos and brown twill blazer, a white dress shirt underneath, as well as his pistol, which he never leaves home without. I’m starting to wish I never left home without mine. How I miss Ethel.
“Ethel!” I say in lieu of a proper greeting, and they each exchange a glance. “I think I just named my gun.”
Everett ticks his head back, his lids hooded seductively low. “I’ve got a gun you can name.”
My teeth graze over my bottom lip to keep from smiling. “Everett, behave.”
Noah threads his arm through mine. “It’s time you see him for the animal he is.”
Oh, I’m intimately familiar with Everett’s animalistic tendencies, but I don’t dare say a word.
Noah looks to the both of us. “Speaking of animals, the coroner’s preliminary report was filed just a few hours ago. Amanda Wellington was poisoned.”
I take in a quick breath. “You mean? You don’t think my apple turnovers were toxic, do you?”
He winces. “I’m sorry, Lottie. They found high traces of Conium, a hemlock alkaloid both in her system and in the bolus in her mouth. Someone tampered with your dessert—and either it was meant for Amanda or she was very unlucky.”
“Oh my God. How could this have happened? And how did she end up outside? The last thing I remembered she was in the conservatory with us.”
“True.” Noah shakes his head. “But as soon as the poison started to work its way into her bloodstream, her lungs would have begun to seize. She might have gone outside for some fresh air.”
“Or”—Everett takes a breath—“someone might have baited her and fed it to her there.”
I nod up at him. “That would have given them plenty of time and privacy to tamper with my dessert without anyone witnessing the event.”
Noah offers a dismal smile. “Don’t worry about that tonight. Let’s enjoy dinner with your family.”
The dining room at the B&B is filled with both family and friends. Keelie and Bear, Naomi and Lily and Alex—I cringe at the unhappy trio. Mayor Nash and Carlotta. His daughters Kelleth and Aspen—two blonde beauties who happen to be my new half-sisters. They’re talking with Lainey and Meg, and I’m betting Lainey is warning them to steer clear of me at all costs. I won’t lie. It hurts my heart to think my sweet sister thinks I’m cursed. It hurts even more to know she might be right.
Mom is laughing it up with Pastor Gaines—that eerie perennial smile of his. I don’t care if he is laughing at the moment, it never leaves his face. Chrissy Nash, Mayor Nash’s ex-wife, is here. She’s the mother of my half-siblings and my mother’s bestie. Both Chrissy and my mother share the same blonde shoulder-length locks, the same rotten luck with men—with the exception of my adoptive father, of course, but admittedly Joseph Lemon is a hard act to follow.
“Too bad there aren’t any suspects here tonight,” I whisper to both Noah and Everett.
Everett leans in. “Feel free to take the night off, Lemon. You deserve it. But if you see my father, consider yourself on the clock again.” He gives a sly wink. “I’ll get us a couple of drinks.” He takes off for the bar, and I navigate Noah over to the cluster of sisters I seem to have amassed.