Page 57 of Toxic Apple Turnovers

Everett nods back toward the cider booth, and I shake my head as I pull him in close. We hold our breath, stealing a moment to listen once more.

“I took care of Amanda?” Chrissy laughs as if he were taking umbrage with the thought. “You took care of Amanda. I was supposed to find the body.”

“First, I didn’t kill her. Second, you didn’t find the body—that hot baker you’ve been lusting after stumbled upon her first.”

Everett lifts a brow my way.

Chrissy chokes on his response. “I’m not lusting after anyone but you, Connie. It’s always been you!”

“Then you should have set Mark up better! Why the heck hasn’t that hot detective rummaged through his glove compartment yet?”

My jaw roots to the ground as I give Everett’s hand a hard tug.

Owlbert flails and hoots. “What am I hearing? Are they guilty or not?”

I nod up at him, and he zooms their way.

“Ouch,” Connie yelps. “Something just pegged the top of my head. Never mind, let’s get out of here. Tomorrow you’ll take the rest of that rat poison—and I don’t care if you have to litter his front lawn with it, you make him look guilty. I can’t sleep at night knowing the sheriff’s department is still fishing around.”

They step out from the cover of the overgrown apple trees and come face to face with Everett and me.

“Oh, for freak’s sake,” Connie tips her head back and groans.

“Connie—Chrissy?” I swallow hard. “We were just headed off for some privacy.” I wrap my arms around Everett and nearly climb him in the process. “You know, just two lovebirds who can’t keep their hands off one another. This big boy’s got a gavel and he knows how to wield it, if you know what I mean.” It comes out throaty and undeniably silly because I would never in my right mind say that to anyone, let alone Connie and Chrissy.

Connie exhales hard and pushes out a white fog from her lips. “She heard.”

“No, no, I didn’t hear.” I bat my lashes up at Everett. “Did you hear? We didn’t hear.”

“They heard, Chrissy!” she barks at him as Owlbert’s wings expand four feet before he lands back on top of her head. “Fix this right now,” she growls, grabbing a fruit picker off the ground as if she were arming herself.

Chrissy shoots us a nervous glance. “I’m not fixing this, Connie. He’s a freaking judge.”

Her eyes narrow in on Everett’s. “He’ll be a dead judge.”

Everett grabs me by the waist and attempts to pull me past the trees to our right, but Chrissy reaches around his back and produces a pistol pointed at the two of us.

“Drop her. Step forward or this gets messy fast,” Chrissy says it with a touch of boredom in his voice, but I’d like to think it’s his unwillingness to play along.

“Hey.” Everett holds a hand up, the other still securely wrapped around my waist. “We’re not sure what’s going on. I don’t know who said what. I just want a little alone time with my girlfriend. It looks like you two hit the liquor hard, and I can’t blame you. So why don’t you go that way, and we’ll go this way and forget all about this little altercation?”

Chrissy glances to Connie, and she cuts her hand through the air as if rejecting the offer.

Owlbert swoops down and clamps his talons right over Chrissy’s hand, and the gun starts to slip between his fingers.

In one svelte maneuver, Everett kicks the gun out of Chrissy’s grasp and it plummets to the ground. Everett lunges for it, but Connie swings that fruit picker at his head and strikes him over the temple, creating a horrible thumping sound.

“Connie,” Chrissy thunders it out like a reprimand—either that or he’s cheering her on.

Everett staggers back a moment before falling to the ground, a seam of blood erupting just over his cheek.

“Everett?” I fall to his side and shake him until he gives a hard moan, his eyes fluttering open.

“Geez,” he groans.

“Geez is right,” I growl up at Connie. “You could have killed him!”

“Then I’m off to a good start,” she pants, wielding that gun my way. “Why don’t you get on top of him one last time? I like an easy target.”