Page 4 of Wedding Cake Carnage

Anytime an animal, pet as it were, comes back from the other side, it almost always means death is about to strike its previous owner.

Now if I could only figure out who that could be?

A tiger? An exotic tiger at that?

A few months back, I had to deal with the ghost of a bear—a BEAR—and come to find out, Eve Hollister’s father owned a circus when she was young. It was Eve who was murdered. And that ornery bear and I worked together to land her killer behind bars. But this creature, I have no clue what the backstory on it could possibly be.

I take a deep breath as I look to Keelie. “I think I just need some air. Hey, where’s the cake?”

“I couldn’t figure out which one it was. Sorry.” She pulls me close by the arm, the way she usually does when she has a bit of juicy gossip at the ready. “On my way out, I heard Jana and that girl that hauled her off ripping into one another. Something about a client list? I’ll admit, I got waylaid a bit as I tried to listen in.”

“Sounds ugly. I’ll get that cake. And hey, if you see Noah, tell him I want to speak with him before he leaves.”

I glance back and spot Ivy Fairbanks—DetectiveIvy Fairbanks, Noah’s partner at the Ashford Sheriff’s Department—standing by the photographer’s booth with her arms firmly folded, her gaze dead set on me. Ivy is a gorgeous redhead whom I’ve long suspected has more than a platonic interest in Noah.

“Huh. I wonder if Noah is having me watched?” I shake my head. “Of course, he is. This whole thing with Everett has him spooked, and rightly so. I’ll be right back. Man the fort for me?” I ask while taking the keys from her, and Keelie happily obliges.

As soon as I get that cake back to the booth, I’ll take off and explore the expo to see if I can find that glorified cat once again. It was a beautiful beast. A boy judging by the junk dangling as it took off in haste. As much as I don’t want to get near it, I do want to see if it’s following anyone. It sure seemed as if it were looking for whomever it came for.

I head down the hall that separates the back of the convention center from the party going on inside and the din of voices grows smaller and smaller. A part of me wondered if I’d bump into Jana and her angry friend, but it looks as if that good time is over for now. Not that I mind. The last thing I want is to get mixed up in something else. In fact, if I do see that ferocious poltergeist milling about, maybe I’ll just go the other way. I have my hands full with finding Everett. The last thing I need on my plate is a homicide investigation.

Every muscle in my body freezes as a horrible thought comes to me.

What if it’s here for Everett?

Wait a minute—it can’t be here for Everett. You would think having a tiger as a pet would have come up once or twice by now. The only odd conversation we had was when he confessed that a woman who was pregnant with his child slid off an icy embankment six years ago, killing both her and the baby. That was heartbreaking to hear. Everett admitted that sadly he didn’t know her too well, but he was ready to step up and be a father to that child. Nonetheless, Everett isn’t physically present at this venue today. Or is he?

No, he’s not. And that’s exactly why I’m going to forget all about that pesky poltergeist. In fact, I’m going to spend the rest of the day minding my own business.

I head out into the scalding July sun as I make a beeline for the refrigerated van and pull out the first cake box I see. Keelie is right. They’re not marked correctly. My brain has clearly taken a leave of absence. I can’t blame myself too much. The stress of these past nine days has been insurmountable.

I close the van and note a small pink purse on the ground near the dumpsters.

Great. Some poor woman is probably running around frantically looking for it. I know that feeling. I’ve misplaced a handbag or two before I started running around with one strapped to my back. And on a day like today, I’d lose my head if it weren’t attached. I usually despise that tried-and-true euphemism, but in my case, especially as of late, it’s horrifically true.

I head over and balance the cake box in one arm as I lower myself to pick up the tiny pink satchel, and, as soon as I do, my eyes flit to a leg connected to a body wearing a familiar pink dress with gold lame flowers pressed into the fabric.

A scream gets locked in my throat.

Jana March lies on her stomach, her hand still clutching a fork with a bite of my pink champagne cake attached to the tines. A crimson bloom expands over her back, and a horrible groan comes from me.

Jana won’t have to worry about my sister’s wedding, or anyone else’s wedding for that matter.

Jana March is dead.

Chapter 2

Ascream shrills from me as I struggle to pull the phone out of my bag, and my gun tumbles out instead.

“Oh my God,” I shout as I scramble to land on it.

A crowd shuffles this way with Ivy leading the pack.

“What’s happening, Lottie?” she barks it out as she yanks a weapon from the holster in her back. Ivy spots the purse and trots over to the dumpster and takes a step back when she spots the body.

Within seconds, it seems as if the entire parking lot is blanketed with sheriff’s deputies.

Noah runs up and helps me to my feet as I stuff my weapon back into my backpack.