Page 28 of Toxic Apple Turnovers
Chapter 10
Monday morning brings crisp winds as autumn is ushered into our world with a rich abundance of color. All of Vermont has made the transformation, taking off its verdant green coat in exchange for rich ambers, golden yellows, and fiery reds.
Every maple that lines Main Street is alive with citrine brilliance, and slowly pumpkins begin to dot the storefronts and residences alike. It’s my favorite time of year to cozy up by the fire with a stack of good books, a hot cup of cider, and my cats on either side of me. I wouldn’t mind Noah and Everett being there as well, but that could prove to be disastrous—the three of us. What an awful coital conundrum I’ve gotten myself into. What a horrible situation when your heart simply cannot choose.
It’s the afternoon of Amanda Wellington’s funeral, and the skies are thick with dark clouds with navy underbellies. It seems our whole world is full of ominous signs as of late. After that bank heist, every resident in Honey Hollow has been on edge. The Ashford Sheriff’s Department has stepped up patrol up and down the streets of our cozy small town and, in truth, it feels as if we’re under siege.
Honey Hollow Covenant Church is packed tightly with all of Amanda’s nearest and dearest friends. Her sister and her brother are huddled up front. I’m not sure what the story with her parents is, but I don’t see anyone sitting in a prominent position who might qualify.
Noah and Ivy are seated in the back, per their usual funeral stakeout. Noah likes to keep it all business at events like this even though he is firm on paying his respects and offering the family his condolences. Everett and I are seated together, his strong, warm hand holding mine, and it feels right like this with him, safe.
Pastor Gaines conducts a brief yet beautiful service, that creepy smile never leaving his face. I’m not sure why it irks me so, but it does.
There is no casket, no body, just an oversized picture of Amanda’s face. It’s the same picture she used at Redwood Realty, and if you look closely, the taglineSelling Honey Hollowis still prominent on the border to the left.
Connie Canelli is seated next to Hazel. And Chrissy and Mark flank Amanda’s brother on the other side. I don’t see Janelle, but maybe she’s running late? Or perhaps she opted to sit outside of the glaring funeral spotlight and is somewhere in the back with Noah. I couldn’t blame her.
And as much as there isn’t a dry eye in the house, it’s easy to deduce that the one being that appears the most distraught over Amanda’s passing is Owlbert Einstein himself. He sits perched over the enormous framed picture, letting off his low raspy hoots two at a time, but sometimes six in a row. And oddly enough, Dutch, the ghost of the Golden Retriever I met last December, is seated below her picture dutifully as well, with his burning fiery eyes staring sullenly out at the crowd.
But that’s not the only oddity here. Beastie, the grand white Bengal tiger, has been traipsing up and down the aisle with little Lea on his back. Lea has her long hair pulled down over her face—I’m guessing that’s the way she likes it. And despite her incessant giggling as Beastie bobs up and down, she’s wielding that hatchet in her hand as if she means business.
It’s all a bit unnerving to say the least.
Once the funeral is over, we’re all quickly ushered into the reception area, a hall that’s attached to the church. Lily helped me haul over enough cookies and brownies to feed all of Honey Hollow. Of course, out of respect for Amanda, there’s nary a single apple turnover in the bunch.
The hall is brightly lit, and there are bodies swirling in every direction, accompanied by chatter and bouts of laughter as if it were a joyous occasion.
Everett leans in. “Who’s on your radar, Lemon?”
“Connie and Janelle.” I frown into the crowd when I spot Lainey and Forest huddled together. “And Lainey, but I doubt this is the time to try to convince her I’m not a walking broken mirror.” I shoot Everett a look. “I might be, but that’s not the point.”
His cheek flickers with devilish delight before his attention is snagged away. “Fiona is here. I’ll go talk to her and let her know we want to get Connie to open up to us.”
“Do you think you can get her to cooperate with us? I mean, she is friends with Connie, too.”
“I can get Fiona to do anything I like.” His lids hood low, and my stomach bisects with heat in response. No sooner does Everett take off than Carlotta clip-clops her way over in a pair of sky-high heels.
“What’s with the stilts?” I can’t help but ask. I’ve never seen Carlotta in anything but boots or sneakers. She’s been known to dress for comfort and not for style. “Looking to impress the dead?”
“Oh hush.” She plucks off her left shoe and sighs as soon as her foot hits the cool comfort of the floor. “I’m looking to impress Harry. He’s been sneaking off with your mother behind my back again.”
I cringe at the thought. “Maybe you should try to steal Pastor Gaines from her?” I giggle at the thought. “And just to clarify, I’m teasing. Do not intermesh yourself with my mother’s love life more than you already have.”
“I’m not going anywhere near Pastor Gaines.” She shoves her finger in her mouth and pretends to vomit.
“Oh, come on. He’s not so bad. He always has a smile on his face, so that has to count for something.”
Carlotta squirms as she steps back into her shoe. “And that’s the exact reason I plan on staying away. Mama Nell always said ‘never trust a man who doesn’t know when to stop smiling.’”
“I’m with her on that.” I spot Pastor Gaines, and a shiver rides up my spine. “I wish my mother would realize that. Hey? You don’t think he’s dangerous, do you?”
She makes a face while staring him down. My mother is by his side and so are Mayor Nash and his ex-wife, Chrissy. An odd crowd if ever there was one.
“I don’t know,” she says. “But personally, I plan on staying very far away. Now if you’ll excuse me, I promised Lea I’d eat a cookie or twelve for her.”
She takes off just as I spot Everett speaking with Fiona and—oh! Connie Canelli pops up behind her and covers Fiona’s eyes with her hands before they both break into cackles like a couple of sorority girls. I hustle on over, and Owlbert beats me to it, landing his white fuzzy talons on Everett’s left shoulder. I can tell by the way Everett is jerking his shoulder slightly that he feels a presence there.
I’m quick to take up Everett’s hand. “Connie, Fiona, so nice to see you both. How I wish it was under better circumstances.”