He scowls at the crowd around us. “Nothing feels safe anymore.”
A hand reaches out from the mass of bodies, and before I know it, I’m in Carlotta’s clutches.
“What do you think, Lot Lot?” She holds a hand out at the travesty before us. “Welcome to the best little whorehouse in Honey Hollow.”
I look back at Noah. “At least she’s honest. About this.” I snatch back my wrist. “Carlotta, why would you tell Teddy I was your sidekick? And are sharing your transmundane status with the people you lose money to at bingo?”
She glowers my way. “I tell my bingo girls everything. That’s bingo code. I can’t help it, Lot. Once those numbers start jumping in that cage, it’s like a truth serum is dispersed and everyone under that roof starts spilling all sorts of secrets. I know everything about everyone thanks to my Tuesday night vice. The rest of the world might have Bambi Bailey to fill in the juicy telltale gaps, but I’ve got my bingo bimbos.”
“Carlotta, the only truth serum circulating under that roof is whiskey. Those innocent bingo numbers have nothing to do with it.”
“Maybe so, but I’ve got a suspect all primed and ready to go for you in the library. Come on, Lot. Dig your heels in and winnow out the killer before those nitwits beat you to it. We’re taking bets down at Red Satin to see who’ll crack the case first. I hate to break it to you, kid, but the odds aren’t in your favor this time.”
Noah leans in. “You mean they were betting on me a few weeks back?”
“More like betting against you. But don’t feel bad, Foxy. Lot Lot is easy money—just like she’s easy in other ways, too. Speaking of which, you’d better practice your moves. It’s almost showtime. Tonight’s the big dance-off here at the B&B. Men only. Good thing the hot judge showed. There were rumors of women looking to kidnap him. Now that he’s here, he’s safe. Mostly.”
Carlotta whisks me off through the crowd, and before you can say psychotic socialite shenanigans, we’re in the library, or what used to be the library.
I gasp at the sight of it. The floor-to-ceiling bookshelves are suddenly devoid of books and filled with—
“Stuffed animals?” I balk.
Cormack runs up with her hands swinging side to side like a child.
“Well, it’s about time, Lynnie.” She gives me a wink. Cormack has her blonde hair in loose waves, and her celadon green eyes are full of mischief. She’s donned a gold dress with a pink scarf, and her accouterments—in combination with the stuffed animal brigade—send my nausea soaring out of the blue. “Sorry to break it to you. But I’ve already been given some very valuable information regarding who the killer is in the case of Verity Prescott, and soon I’ll have my prime suspect apprehended and behind bars where they belong. I’m afraid your days as an amateur spoof are numbered. You really should leave these kinds of things to the professionals, such as myself and the Big Boss.” She cranes her neck past me. “Speaking of which, I think I smell his cologne.” She trots off into the main artery of the B&B and my nausea subsides a smidge with her absence.
“Stuffed animals?” I riot at no one in particular.
The middle of the room has a cluster of chairs brought together in a circle, and I’m shocked to see more than a few familiar faces. Lainey is here, as is Keelie, her twin, Naomi, my stepsisters, Kelleth and Aspen, Britney, Noah’s ex-wife, Suze, his battle axe of a mother, my mother, Lily Swanson, Sugar Hartley, and a whole slew of other women. And each of them seems to be knitting up a storm. At this point in their projects they all seem to be working on a scarf, but I know so little about knitting they could be pants for all I know.
Of course, Juliet Jackowski is here going from person to person and praising their work. And right now my sights are set on her. She’s wearing jeans and a red and white knit cardigan, and yet oddly, everyone else here seems dressed to the nines, my sister and Keelie included.
Teddy bounds over on all fours before floating up our way.
“Welcome to the party, Lottie!” she warbles. “Pick up some sticks and get to knitting with the rest of them. Carlotta and I have already mined the suspect for all she’s worth. You just go on and enjoy yourself. Knit up a pair of booties for yourself, or better yet, the baby.”
“Booties?” I make a face over at Carlotta. “Would you please tell this sweet little girl that you’re not the primary, whatever that means. I’m the one in charge here. Teddy, you came to help me.”
“Not true, Lot,” Carlotta is quick to contest. “Technically, she came to help the deceased. And whether you like it or not, I’m going to be the primary sooner or later. Who do you think is going to take over once the baby arrives?”
Juliet pokes her head our way and gives an apprehensive smile. “Everything okay here, ladies?”
My lips part, but before I can answer, the lights flicker on and off as Cressida Bentley jumps to the center of the room.
“All right, nitwits!” She tosses up her hands, and I do believe Cressida meant nitwits in the traditional sense. She’s just that mean. “It’s seven o’clock. You know what that means!”
The entire inn vibrates to life as shockingly loud rock music bellows from the hall, and I look that way to see the lights have dimmed and in their place flashing pink and blue spotlights highlight the chaos as that mass of bodies starts gyrating to the music in tandem.
“What in the hell?”
“Lot Lot.” Carlotta smacks me on the arm. “You’ll have to excuse her, Juliet. My daughter can’t help but get salty in front of mixed company. She was raised by wolves.”
“I was raised by Lemons,” I’m quick to correct.
Carlotta nods. “Too bad there’s no lemon law on getting a return for your childhood. That’s a part of the reason why I came back on the scene to try to right all the wrongs in this poor girl’s life.”
I shake my head at Juliet. “She came back because she needed to be present to get her full inheritance. That, and I suspect she wanted to live rent-free with me.” Never mind the fact she lived at Nell’s old place for five hot minutes before it burst into a moldy flood zone.
Carlotta clucks like a chicken. “I suppose you’re going to accuse me of tweaking the test results in that black mold study we had done on the house to work in my favor.”
I gasp at the thought, and Carlotta quickly darts out the door.
“Why that little…” I choke on the expletive begging to come forth. “Never mind. What’s done is done. Or I should say what’s manipulated has been manipulated.”
Teddy wraps her furry arms around my neck and sits on my belly. “That’s Carlotta for you. She told the girls at bingo that manipulation is the best way to move ahead in the world.”
I have no doubt.
Juliet gives a short-lived laugh. “I think Carlotta is a hoot.”
“She’s something.”
Cressida claps her hands over her head. “Come on now, you’re not really a bunch of nitwits, are you? Now shoo! The party just started and we need to transform this room into the snuggle lounge.”
Keelie raises her hand. “Is that what the stuffed animals are for?”