“Figures,” I mumble to myself as I take it in. Cressida and Cormack are experts at loving themselves. It shouldn’t surprise me that the focus of this night is something so self-centered.
But Noah and Everett are two people who are anything but self-centered. Noah is still in Ashford working on the case with Ivy. He says they’re very close to getting all the proper wheels in motion for that impending arrest. In the meantime, they’re trying to figure out if Sugar could also be the killer. I’d like nothing more than to kill two birds with one legal stone.
And Everett is running late because Bear needed him to shore up some details concerning the construction of the new house.
Lily and I just set out platters and platters of nothing but raspberry tarts. I told Cormack and Cressida it was crass to serve the very dessert Verity died eating while devoting this night to her. Although, to be fair, I don’t see any sign that should lead me to believe this is a memorial of any kind.
“Lottie.” Greer Giles flies my way with her dapper ghostly plus one by her side. Greer looks particularly gorgeous tonight with her sparkling dark hair and her lips shining a deep ruby red. “That’s it. We’ve tried everything.”
Winslow nods. “I even enlisted a few feral poltergeists from up north. They’ve worked side by side with us all month to no avail.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “And by the way, happy death day, Greer.” It just so happens to be the anniversary of the day she crossed over to the other side. “I hear the amped-up hauntings around here have been a hit.”
A blonde whirlwind bustles in this direction, and before I know it, Cormack and Cressida are standing before me in all their pink sparkling terror.
Cressida cackles like the witch she is. “You’re darn right those hauntings were a hit, Libra. It just goes to show those ghosts are happier than ever. Don’t worry. Your mama is still a valued employee. And we plan on keeping her around for a very long time.” She gives Cormack a sour look. “Unless she doesn’t shape up when it comes to making up the guests’ bedrooms. I couldn’t bounce a quarter off the sheets this morning. She keeps this up, and she’ll be let go by noon tomorrow.”
A growl emits from me. “Cressida, why is my mother doing the housekeeping around here? I thought she was keeping her role as guest relations and working the registration desk?”
Cressida’s lips pucker. “Oh, she does that, too. But now that Macky and I are businesswomen, we need to save a dollar where we can, so we’ve let the rest of the staff go.”
Greer’s aura takes on a fiery hue. “It’s true, Lottie. They’ve fired everyone. The only people left are your mother and Wiley.”
Winslow snorts. “Wiley’s too preoccupied with his publishing company to deal with the B&B. And by preoccupied, I mean napping. He claims his best marketing ideas come to him in his dreams.”
I make a face at the idea just as Cormack cranes her neck into the crowd.
“Where’s Big Boss?” she snips. “I’ve got a bead on who the killer is.” Her thin lips twist like a pretzel. “And don’t think I’m blowing the killer’s cover to you, Landry. I worked hard all month slicing and dicing this case to pieces until I had all the pieces to put together, and put them together I did.” She gives a cheeky wink before waving to someone in the crowd, and both blonde ditzes do a disappearing act as they dive into the sea of bodies.
Little Lea stalks up with her hair combed over her eyes as she floats up toward me, that machete still firmly embedded in her hand.
“Shall I kill them in their sleep?” she offers.
Thirteen, their friendly, albeit long since deceased black cat, hops to the top of Lea’s head.
“I’ve been sharpening my claws.” He twitches his whiskers as he says it. “A scratch across the cheek is just the trauma they deserve.”
“You might be right,” I say. “In fact, any blemish to their complexion might be cause for them not to get out of bed. But something tells me not even that would shoo them from the B&B. I’m afraid we’ll just have to live with them until we can figure out what to do.”
Greer lets out a ghostly growl that sends the chandelier up above rattling away.
She shrugs over to Winslow. “If we can’t get them to give up the B&B, the least we can do is ruin their party.” The four of them take flight, and within seconds the tarts are flying, the music is skipping, and the lights cut out intermittently, and sadly no one seems all that concerned.
Perfect.
Every aspect of my life is falling apart, and there’s nothing I can do about any of it. I wrap my arms around my enormous belly as if that could somehow protect my sweet little sugar cookie from the ills of this world.
Across the way I spot Evie and her friends as they dance to the music, laughing, and snapping pictures of the crowd around them.
Everett and I were ambivalent about letting her come, but since we knew we would both be here, we figured it might just be the safest place for Evie.
Carlotta bops up wearing a tight red dress with giant heart-shaped earrings. Her hair is teased to the ceiling. In one hand she has a glowing pink drink, and in the other she’s cradling Teddy as the sweet little specter swings from her neck.
“We spotted the killer,” Carlotta says as she takes a sip of that concoction she’s holding.
Teddy nods my way. “I knew Carlotta would get to the bottom of this sooner than later. It’s just a shame that my sweet Sugar was involved. She must have had a hard time of it once I was taken from her. I dare say she’s lost her mind.”
“Someone has lost their mind, all right,” I say to Carlotta. “Please don’t even whisper anything about the killer. If she gets wind that we’re onto her, she could take off and live to torment Evie another day. We need to play it cool.”
The music hikes up and the crowd shakes its limbs with a little more vigor, and I narrowly escape getting my belly bumped as Carlotta does her best to shuffle us off to the side.
“We need to get you an iron dress, Lot,” she says, dusting off my bulging tummy.
“Carlotta always has the best ideas.” Teddy chortles.
“I couldn’t move in an iron dress,” I grunt. “In fact—” I hold out my arms to display the long crimson velvet number I’ve donned and accidentally smack my arm over someone’s chest. “Oh! I’m sorry,” I say as I turn to find Juliet blinking back as her hands rise a moment to protect herself.
“Lottie, hold your fire.” Juliet laughs as she adjusts her purse over her shoulder. She’s donned a white cardigan with pink and red hearts, and it looks perfectly scrumptious for this heart-shaped night.
“Juliet, did you make this cute sweater?” I ask, giving her arm a quick pat.
“I did.” She wrinkles her nose as she looks down at it. “It was my very first attempt at a cardigan all those years ago. Good thing the lighting in here is so poor, or you’d see all of the mistakes.”
“Well, it’s gorgeous and it looks sweet enough to eat,” I say.
Carlotta chuckles. “I’d watch that sweater if I were you,” she tells her. “Once my Lot gets a craving, there are no lengths she’ll go to procure that cotton candy cutie for her belly.”