The music changes to something slower, and Everett and I quickly gobble down our food.
“Come on, Lemon.” Everett tucks a kiss to my cheek. “I need to dance with my beautiful wife one last time before the year is up. I hear it brings good luck.”
“Ha!” I laugh at the thought. “You do realize I’m not exactly a rabbit’s foot. More like a corpse magnet.” It’s true. I’ve stumbled upon more than my fair share of dead bodies as of late. As soon as the homicide rate skyrocketed in Honey Hollow, it seemed I was right there to catalog them all, and each of those homicide victims just so happened to be noshing on one of my sweet treats. Suffice it to say, a person or two has accused me of nefarious marketing practices.
We step over a few feet as he wraps his arms around me and we begin to sway to the music. I lean my head on his chest and listen to the steady thump thump thump of his heart, and I give a dreamy sigh. My body just so happens to be turned at an angle to accommodate my bourgeoning belly, but Everett has his hand over it, and every now and again the baby rewards him with a kick. And every time the baby gives him five, he drops a kiss to the top of my head.
A pink hurricane zips over to the buffet and catches my attention as she makes a plate of my waffles, ten high at least. It’s Florenza Canelli, and boy, does she look furious. Can’t blame her. She seems to be having a rather explosive end to this old year. Hopefully, she won’t have any more blowouts with a single person in the year to come.
The music changes pace to something livelier just as the DJ takes over the mic and announces that it’s time to do the official New Year’s Eve countdown. The room swirls with bodies as everyone quickly finds their loved ones and friends.
Noah comes this way and I pull him in, wrapping my right arm around Everett’s waist and my left arm around Noah’s as we count back from ten together.
“Three, two, one!” we shout in unison.
“Happy New Year!” the room breaks out into cheers just as a series of four loud pops goes off, detonating so loud there’s no mistake as to what made that horrific sound.
Screams break out as people scatter, and both Noah and Everett shield me with their bodies.
Noah pulls back and draws his weapon as the room devolves into utter chaos.
Lying on the floor to our right with a bullet wound through her chest is Florenza Canelli. Her legs and arms are splayed, and she just so happens to have an entire waffle caught between her teeth.
Florenza Canelli won’t have to worry about having any more blowouts in the year to come.
Angel Face Flo is dead.
Chapter 3
Noah raises his gun to the ceiling with one hand and hoists his badge in the air with the other.
“Ashford County Sheriff’s Department,” he shouts. “Everybody clear the building in an orderly fashion!”
But it’s too late. People are nearly trampled as they exit through every given orifice at once, and the chorus of screams is ceaseless.
Everett does his best to pull me toward the kitchen—where we happen to be privy to an exit that leads right to where I parked my bakery van, but I dig my heels in before breaking free from his grasp and run toward the body instead.
“Lottie, no,” Noah riots just as a flock of men and women fall over the poor woman checking her vitals. One of those people happens to be my sister Lainey’s husband, Forest Donovan. Forest, a fireman and a first responder, has wavy brown hair and stunning gray eyes. Lainey and Forest just had a baby last August, my sweet niece Josie, and this outing was their first big date night since the event. I’m sure Lainey will board herself up in the house for the next eighteen years after this catastrophe.
Forest checks for a pulse both at Florenza’s wrist and her neck before looking my way and shaking his head. Forest has always seemed perfectly capable of saving the world, but right now he can’t do a thing for that poor woman on the ground.
“She can’t be dead,” I say mostly to myself.
“Big Boss!” an annoying wail comes from behind us as Cormack Featherby runs up with her boobs bouncing to her chin as her body struggles to stay within the confines of that tight blue dress of hers. “I’ve got this! Featherby Sleuths Investigative Services to the rescue!” She trips and falls, landing right over Florenza Canelli’s unresponsive body.
“Everett!” Noah thunders, with his weapon drawn oddly at the rest of the room. “Get them both the hell out of here, now.”
Everett wraps an arm around my waist and plucks Cormack up by the hand, but before he can sail us out of the room, I turn to see a smattering of men in dark suits glaring in this direction. And every last one of them looks livid—livid enough to kill. I recognize two of them. They’re both tall and beefy, and they that just so happen to be glowering at one another at the moment.
The bald one with light eyes and a pointed chin is Luke Lazzari, aka The Butcher, who also happened to date Carlotta once upon a dangerous time. The guy next to him, who looks as if he’s about to shoot a round of bullets straight from his mouth, is Jimmy Canelli. He owns Red Satin Gentlemen’s Club down in Leeds, the very same gentlemen’s club where my sister Meg works teaching dancers their moneymaking moves. Luke and Jimmy are from opposing crime families. A Canelli just so happened to take a bullet tonight. There is no way this is going to end well.
“Your people did this,” Jimmy bellows over at Luke. “You killed my niece and there’s going to be hell to pay.” He storms out of the ballroom, and I catch Luke tipping his head back before cutting a cold glance to the body on the floor.
The next thing I know, Everett has navigated both Cormack and me out into the frozen night where snow covers the ground and the evergreen branches are still weighed down with powder from the storm that blew through last night.
“Essex,” Cormack shouts as she plucks her hand free. “You’re ruining my case! Take care of Linola here. It’s time to cut my teeth on a real whodunnit.” She pokes her finger in my chest. For some reason, both Cormack and Cressida, Evie’s bio mother, refuse to get my name right. “You stay out of my investigation, Limoncello. I’ve gotta prove myself in the crime-fighting world. And I’m doing it tonight.” She stalks off before either Everett or I can get a word in.
Just last month, Cormack’s wealthy father pulled a few strings and greased a few palms to garner his spoiled little angel her very own PI license. He also rented her the very same office space on Main Street where Noah once had his PI office. Cormack has been doing her best to claw her way back into Noah’s life for years now, and I have a feeling this is just another ploy to do just that. The only mystery she’s interested in solving is how to land the latest designer purse in her closet—and perhaps Noah in her bed.
“Lemon, are you okay?” Everett quickly runs his hands over my body, over the baby as if feeling for a gunshot wound.
“I’m fine.” My heart riots in my chest as if calling me a liar. “The baby is fine.” No sooner do I say the word than it gives a swift kick as if to agree with me and right over Everett’s hand to boot.
A short-lived smile curves his lips. “Nothing ever felt so good.” He closes his eyes and lands a kiss to my lips. “I love you, Lemon. I love you both. Nothing can happen to either of you.” He gives a quick glance over his shoulder. “I saw Evie run out the door just before midnight. I’d better go find her.”