Page 13 of Twice Baked Risky Whiskey Cakes (MURDER IN THE MIX #53)

LOTTIE

A woman meets us in the foyer before we can properly step inside, revealing a stunning beauty who I’m guessing is Venus’ sister-in-law.

The woman is gorgeous. Sculpted features, impossibly svelte frame. Vivian has the polished look of someone who considers being a mom a full-time job but also employs three nannies. Her highlights look as if they cost more than my monthly budget, and her smile has the warmth of a tax audit.

The sound of chatter and laughter pours out into the entry and the sound of classical music is layered just above that. Brass and marble abound every which way you look, and honestly, it feels as if we’re about to step into a mausoleum.

“Venus! You made it!” Vivian air-kisses both of Venus’ cheeks, careful not to disturb either of their makeup. Her gaze lands on the bakery boxes. “Oh good, you brought the treats.” She squints to read the label emblazoned with the name from my bakery and makes a face.

My mouth falls open. What was that face for?

“I got the desserts from the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery,” Venus says quickly. “This is the owner, Lottie Lemon, and her adorable daughter, Lyla Nell. And this is?—”

“And I’m the mandatory fun portion of this bakery entourage,” Carlotta announces, as if this tenuous connection justifies her presence at this exclusive gathering. “Carlotta is the name; crashing fancy parties is my game.”

She’s not lying.

“I go wherever the free booze is,” she continues, apparently unable to tell a fib.

Vivian’s face remains frozen in a quasi-smiling mask. “Well, please, come in. Everyone who matters is already here.”

She turns, leading the way just as Venus mouths I’m sorry to me.

“I can see why you wanted me here,” I whisper to her. “Emotional support.”

She gives a mournful laugh. “You’re onto me.”

We glide through the entry and the scent of roses and something sweet wraps itself around us as the sounds from the party only grow in volume—and the mansion seems to be growing, too.

“This place is the size of a shopping mall,” I whisper, this time to myself.

It looks as if the entire first floor has been converted into a literal fairy-tale wonderland.

Real trees—not potted, but apparently uprooted from unsuspecting forest and reinstalled indoors—create a woodland effect in the massive living room.

A carousel sits in the middle of the grand room as waiters in tuxedos pass out hors d’oeuvres on gold trays, and a harpist plays Disney songs in the corner, adding to the already chaotic cacophony of screams and shrill laughter.

I hold onto my belly. “I feel like we’ve stepped into the fever dream of a toddler influencer.”

Venus leans my way. “Trust me. You haven’t seen anything yet.”

The room that’s the size of a shopping mall only seems to expand as Venus leads us through it.

“Wow,” Lyla Nell chirps, clearly mesmerized by all the pink fluffy clouds up above us that look as if they’re made from cotton candy, the thousands of arched balloon sculptures, and all of the little kids driving around in miniature cars, making it feel as if we’ve accidentally stepped onto the highway.

“ Wow ,” Carlotta parrots. “This place looks as if it was designed by someone with unlimited access to Fantasyland and a blank check.”

Venus nods. “The theme appears to be Enchanted Forest Princess Tea Party, but with an aggressive commitment to luxury.”

True as gospel.

She leads up to an entire wall that opens up to a backyard that belongs in the French countryside. There are bounce houses by the dozen, a petting zoo, carnival rides, a midway with prizes, rows and rows of food vendors, and I think I see a pop-up jewelry store and a full-blown cosmetics shop.

But it’s the glorious pastel creature with a horn spouting out from the top of its head that snags my full attention.

“Is that an actual live unicorn?” I ask as both Lyla Nell and I gasp at once.

“It’s supposed to be.” Venus shrugs. “It’s a Shetland pony with a horn attachment and rainbow dye job,” she confirms. “PETA has already been notified, I’m sure.”

“ Pony! ” Lyla Nell gives my hand a firm squeeze. “Mommy, I want pony now! ”

“We’ll get in line in a minute,” I tell her as we make our way to the lawn.

Carlotta is already making a beeline for the champagne fountain when Venus and I bump into her sister-in-law once again.

“The children’s activities are also being held in the east wing,” Vivian tells us with a dismissive wave.

“Adults can enjoy themselves at the club in the back at the Enchanted Forest Princess Open Bar. The guest of honor will make her appearance for cake in approximately ninety minutes. Plan your time accordingly.”

I don’t know what to be more baffled by—the club or the lack of attendance by the guest of honor.

“The birthday girl isn’t at her own party yet?” I ask, unable to hide my confusion. “She must be napping,” I say, answering my own question after the fact.

“She isn’t napping .” Vivian blinks at me as if I’ve asked why water is wet. “She’s having her hair and makeup done, of course. And her final dress fitting isn’t for another thirty minutes. The seamstress had to make last-minute adjustments to the butterfly wings.”

Of course. What was I thinking?

And butterfly wings? Something tells me they really work, too.

Someone calls for Vivian and she takes off.

I take a look around and shake my head. “Butterfly wings? Final fittings? Unicorns and carousels? I don’t have any of that on order for Lyla Nell’s birthday party next week. I was just going to have a cake after dinner. I feel like a failure of a mother.”

Venus laughs so hard that her entire body shakes.

“Oh, Lottie. Don’t let this set the bar for anything in your life.

If anything, Vivian sets the bar that I try to avoid.

Half the time my kids don’t even get a cake.

They get pizza with a candle in it. My brother might be wealthy, but let’s just say his dream of marrying a socialite has turned into a bit of a nightmare for him. ”

We share a dark chuckle over that one.

“Lottie?” someone calls out and I spot both Keelie and Lainey standing in line for that magical unicorn.

Keelie has her son little Bear with her and Lainey has Josie dancing next to her while Mimi sits strapped across my sister’s chest. Little Bear will be three, along with Josie, come this August, so I guess they meet the primary demographic.

We make our way over and I quickly give them both a hug before introducing them to Venus.

Lyla Nell races to Bear and Josie and the three of them hug and scream as if they don’t see one another just about every single day. I’m thrilled they’re so close.

“What are you girls doing here?” I ask, thankful to see them. For some reason, just having Keelie and Lainey here makes it feel as if I’m still on Earth and haven’t been transported to some exotic planet.

Keelie bubbles with a laugh. “Fondu is in Bear and Josie’s class.”

“Fondu?” I squint her way.

“That would be my niece,” Venus says with a grimace. “Let’s just say my brother lets Vivian do whatever Fondu pleases, to whomever.”

“The kids just love her,” Keelie goes on. “Bear calls Fondu his little cheesy girlfriend.”

I shoot Keelie a look that says Heaven help .

If the fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree, I foresee very expensive expectations in his future.

Lainey nods. “Bear and Josie just love this party.” She leans my way. “Rumor has it, the goodie bags alone could pay off my mortgage.”

“ Ooh ,” I muse. “Don’t tell Carlotta.”

“Oh”—Lainey perks up once again—“and did you hear they’ll be doing facials and complete glam makeovers?”

Keelie makes a face. “I’m bummed about it, too.”

“Why would you be upset?” I ask. “You love to get all glammed up. I’ll do it, too. It’ll be fun.”

“Actually—” Venus cringes my way.

“It’s only for the kids,” Lainey finishes for her.

Keelie nods. “And that’s why I’m bummed.” She gives an impish shrug. “But at least I qualify for the diamond art mani-pedis.” She leans in hard. “They’re using actual diamonds.”

I look at Venus and she nods to affirm this.

“Well, then there’s no stopping me from getting my nails done, too,” I say. “Regardless of the fact I can’t see my feet.”

We all share a laugh at that one just as I spot a certain older blonde sitting all by her lonesome on a picnic table laden with an assortment of flowers. And by the looks of things, she’s trying to make a bouquet of some sort.

Venus looks my way then follows my gaze. “Oh, that’s my mother,” she sighs. “She insisted on having a horticulture table set up for the kids. I tried to tell her that toddlers weren’t all that into greenery that they couldn’t stomp on, but she insisted.”

“My mother loves horticulture, too,” I tell her.

Venus is about to say something else when her phone chirps. “It looks like I’m needed in the east wing. Vivian has asked my girls to hold Fondu’s train for the big procession.” She gives a little shrug. “What can I say? She’s all about grand entrances.”

She no sooner takes off than I turn to Lainey and Keelie. “Would you girls mind watching Lyla Nell for a minute? I think I need to get off my feet for a while.”

They’re both happy to do it and I’m more than happy to boot scoot my way to the flower power table and have a little chat with one of my suspects.

Time to dig into the dirt and see if her story comes up roses, or if I’ve finally found my killer in full bloom.