Page 13 of Wedding Cake Carnage
Beasty lets out something closer to a purr than a roar. “What’s in it for me?”
“What would you like?”Please don’t say a nice juicy steak because I’m almost certain you won’t be able to eat it.
“To prolong my stay on the planet. My life was cut short. I had escaped my enclosure and was shot on sight as I entered a school ground.”
“Poor Beasty!” Lea hops onto his back and he gives her a friendly jostle. “And don’t forget what I want, Lottie.” Her eyes darken as she narrows her gaze to mine.
God knows I have no business making promises to ghosts, but when it comes to Everett I’d leverage my very soul if I had to.
Lea nods. “I want full run of the B&B. I want those twits you’ve assigned to haunt this place out of my way or under my charge. Do you understand?”
I turn and spot Greer and Winslow floating this way. “I understand.”
“There you are, little one.” Greer is about take Lea by the hand but retracts as she spots the tiger. I do a quick introduction and Winslow is already on the ground scratching the creature and making him purr.
Greer turns my way. “Lottie, Winslow and I are sorry we can’t help you find Everett. But you do realize, lending a helping hand to humans is not within the guidelines.”
“Don’t worry about it. I just wish you had sonar or something. Can’t you just think about him and land in his presence?”
She shakes her head. “We’re about as useless as you are.”
“Nice. In that case, I’ll see you later.”
“We’ll see you at Honey Lake on Saturday!” Greer chimes.
I nod. “Beasty, I expect to see you soon enough to work on Jana’s case.”
I head back into the dining room where Noah and I say goodnight to Lainey and Meg and to my mother and Mayor Nash out front as well.
We make a beeline for Main Street and head straight for Mangias. We called in a large pepperoni pizza to take back to the house with us. The cashier is a man named Nico and he has our order ready as we walk in the door.
“Every night you two order the same thing.” He laughs as he takes Noah’s credit card and processes it. “You know, you’re not alone. Every night I get a call for a large pepperoni—but for that one, I gotta drive myself all the way out to Hollyhock. Not fun. The gal is a good tipper, though.” He hands Noah the receipt and I note the fact Noah is a good tipper, too.
We take off for Country Cottage Road, the cozy little street we live on.
When Noah and I were dating last fall, I found a rental across the street from his cabin. And coincidentally, Everett bought the house next door to mine. We’ve been one big dysfunctional family ever since.
Noah and I land on my sofa as Pancake and Waffles sit on either side of us like a couple of fluffy Himalayan pillows.
“Who’s the first suspect, Lottie?”
“Why the boyfriend, of course.” I lean in and bear hard into his evergreen eyes. “If I’ve learned anything, it’s you can’t trust a thing a boyfriend might tell you.”
Noah lifts his brows and shoves another bite of pizza into his mouth.
You can’t argue with the truth.
Chapter 5
The Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery is filled to capacity with cake hungry customers. The Fourth of July is closing in on us and flags and patriotic buntings line almost all of Honey Hollow, but not one part of me feels like celebrating anything. The scent of fresh baked pink champagne cake permeates the air as Lily and I struggle to keep up with the crowd.
My mother just sent over an entire busload of tourists who finished up with her haunted B&B tour for what she’s dubbed as The Last Thing They Ate Tour. Yes, my mother actually pitches a nonexistent tour of my bakery just to help boost my sales at the expense of the latest homicide. And how I hate the fact one of my baked goods is somehow always at the center of attention at the scene of the crime. I truly do sell out of whatever baked good the deceased happened to be eating at the time of his or her demise.
Poor Jana.
There’s been a run on my pink champagne cake like never before. And, believe you me, I’ve been sneaking a swig out of the bottle every now and again. I’ve made it a habit to leave the last inch for me. I would never dream of cross-contaminating my baked goods. But boy, did I need it to take the edge off.
I’ve got Everett’s picture right on the front counter. A few of the tourists have asked if he’s a celebrity that’s come through town, so I had Lily print up a tiny banner that reads MISSING just above his forehead. It’s eerie and frightening and makes this entire nightmare all too real.