Page 2 of Toxic Apple Turnovers
And Meg is a blonde beauty who dyes her luscious locks a deep onyx, and when contrasted to her ice blue eyes, it’s quite a striking look. She teaches strippers how to shake their stuff down in Leeds. For years, she used to be a female wrestler in Las Vegas, but she’s been home since last spring.
She’s officially in l-o-v-e with Hook Redwood (Amanda’s boss) who happens to run his father’s realty empire, Redwood Realty.
Lainey giggles as she glides on over. Lainey has essentially been walking on air ever since she came back from her honeymoon. “Did you get the invite, too?”
“What invite?”
She inches back as if affronted. “To the engagement. Meg and I both got one. Everyone did. It’s some secret party that nobody knows the details to.”
Mom nods as she does her best to quickly swallow the turnover in her mouth. “Hey? Maybe this is one of those murder mystery parties?” She waggles her brows like this would be a good thing—lest she forgets where she is and who I am.
Meg gags on a laugh. “It’s always a murder mystery party with Lottie around.”
The room breaks out into a warm laugh on behalf of both the dead and me.
It’s true. In the last year alone, I’ve found twelve murder victims.Andthanks to the help of those that come back from the other side, I’ve helped track down the killers, too.
I’m not clairvoyant, and I’m not a medium—I’m not any of those things. I’m transmundane, further classified as supersensual, which means I can essentially see the dead. When the dead first started appearing to me—it’s almost always an adorable furry creature that has long since crossed that rainbow bridge—they would come back for someone they had a strong adoration for before they passed—usually their old owner—and almost always their earthly reprisal was a harbinger for that very person.
It used to mean nothing more than a scraped knee or a sprained ankle at best, but as of late it has consistently meant death. Only Noah and Everett are aware of my deep, dark secret—with the exception of my birth mother, Carlotta, who also shares the gift, or curse as it were.
“I don’t remember getting an invitation,” I say, sliding a platter of turnovers to my sisters and one to Amanda, too.
“I got one.” Everett’s brows pinch in the middle. “And you?” He looks to Noah.
Everett and Noah used to be stepbrothers back in high school when Noah’s father married and proficiently financially ripped off Everett’s mother. But they’ve since divorced and Everett’s wealthy mother has recovered nicely. Noah and Everett? No so much.
Noah gives a guilty look my way. “I did. But for the record, I’d much rather go out with you, Lottie. Are we still on for Mangias and a movie?”
Mangias is our favorite Italian restaurant, and we happen to be addicted to their pizza. I know for a fact we’re about to pick up a pizza on the way back to his place tonight, where coincidentally the movie will take place as well.
“Yeah, sure.” I shrug up at Everett. “I don’t see why not, seeing that I’m not invited to this event. I’m sorry, Everett. I hate leaving you here.”
“I’ll be fine,” he’s quick to answer. “And I’ll be home soon, so whenever your pizza party wraps up, head over to my place and I’ll show you what a real good time looks like between two consenting adults.”
Noah shakes his head. “As opposed to the adolescent good time I’ll be showing her?”
Everett ticks his head to the side. “You said it, not me.”
I hand them each a platter, and my mother and I grab the last two. Each mini apple turnover sits nestled in a pristine white pastry cup, and they look as elegant and formal as the occasion requires.
“Let’s get these goodies next door,” I say.
I’m the first one out into the generous foyer of the B&B, and just as I’m about to head to the conservatory, I spot Amanda in what appears to be a heated conversation with a blonde and a short brunette on stilts.
Everett leans in. “Everything okay?”
“Yes,” I say, nudging him with my shoulder. “Let’s get these put away.”
In truth, I was expecting to see the ghost of Greer Giles, or Winslow, or Lea—or any of the other ghosts that have visited me in the last twelve months.
A very odd occurrence happened at the end of last month. Every single poltergeist that’s haunted me in the last year showed up on my front porch. And Nell, my grandmother who was one of them, warned me that something very sinister was coming to Honey Hollow. And then, just like that, they all up and disappeared. It was unnerving to say the least. I’ve been on edge ever since. I’ve made an effort to grill Greer about it, but each time I spoke about it she up and disappeared.
My mother leads the way to the conservatory, and Everett is right on her heels. I’m about to mobilize myself when a white-feathered bird dives right in front of me, and I nearly drop my turnovers onto the floor.
“Whoa.” Noah helps stabilize my tray with his. “You almost lost them there.”
The bird zips by again, short and adorably plump, and it’s not until it lands square on Noah’s head do I see it’s a magical looking snow owl.