My blood runs cold as I realize how far we’ve drifted from the festival, from my sweet babies, from safety. All I can think about is never seeing Lyla Nell’s gap-toothed grin again, or holding the twins, hugging Evie, never hearing Everett tell me I’m being reckless while secretly being proud of me for solving another case. And now I see where all of that recklessness has finally landed me.
Lenny roars as if he’s channeling his inner celestial beast, circling our captors with increasing agitation. “Just say the word, Lottie! I’ll rip them both to shreds! They don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you!”
“Hey,” Carlotta barks his way. “What about the air I breathe?”
“It’s heavily perfumed and morally questionable,” Lenny says without missing a beat.
He’s definitely not wrong.
“I have a silencer,” Fairbanks says almost apologetically, holding the gun out a notch so we can see it clearly. “I’m sorry it has to end this way. But you understand—business is business.”
“Business?” I sputter. “Murder isn’t business! Last I checked, it’s a felony.”
Gina gasps. “Oh Fairbanks, I can’t go to prison. I look terrible in orange.”
“It’s going to be a rough fashion era for you,” Carlotta is quick to inform her. “Orange is the new Gina.”
The woman gasps twice as hard.
“Don’t worry, Gina-licious.” Carlotta waves her off. “You’ll be the prettiest thing there.”
“Oh?” Gina’s shoulders wiggle and jiggle as if the thought pleased her. “Go on, tell me more,” she says as if we’re debating the merits of different chocolate recipes instead of my impending doom.
“Shut up,” Fairbanks roars, steadying the gun on us, and both Carlotta and I cower into one another. Okay, fine. We’re both trying to use each other like a human shield, but we can’t help it. Self-preservation is a very real thing.
“Can I be excused?” Carlotta asks with a shaky voice, raising her hand like she’s in school. “I just remembered I have a very important appointment to not be murdered today.”
I roll my eyes.
The gun inches our way. “I really am sorry, Lottie,” Fairbanks’ voice is tight. “You’re actually quite likable for an amateur detective. And your baked goods, well, no one can bake like you. Honey Hollow is going to lose a culinary treasure—at least for about six weeks. That’s how long it’s going to take for us to open up our new French bakery, right across the street from your little hole-in-the-wall.”
My mouth rounds out in surprise. “You mean you’re going to open that fancy French pastry shop right across the street from my bakery?”
“That’s right.” Gina laughs. “And I was so looking forward to seeing the look on your face when we put you out of business. I really did want to keep you around.”
“Me, too,” Fairbanks says with a tick of his head as if the thought of seeing me suffer was something he was looking forward to as well. “But you know too much, and Luke doesn’t like loose ends.”
“I hate loose ends, too,” I say quickly. “Coincidentally, I also hate being threatened with guns. Funny how that works.”
“LEMON!” Everett’s voice booms through the trees like the cavalry arriving just in time.
Fairbanks turns just a fraction, distracted by the sound, and that’s all Lenny needs. The ghostly lion launches himself at Fairbanks with aroar that could be heard in the next solar system before knocking him to the ground in a spectacular display of supernatural justice.
The gun flies out of Fairbanks’ hand, spinning through the air like a dangerous metal frisbee before falling to the ground.
Gina lunges for it, but my foot reaches it first, and I kick the weapon farther away while both Gina and I dive for it, wrestling like we’re fighting over the last chocolate bunny on the planet. We roll in the dirt and debris from the festival—pastel streamers, Easter grass of every color, and what might be cotton candy from someone’s abandoned snack.
“Get off me, you cupcake-pushing psycho!” Gina snarls, trying to claw her way toward the gun.
“Cupcake-pushing psycho?” I gasp, genuinely offended. “I also make cookies, pies, and artisanal breads! If you’re going to insult me, at least be accurate!”
Gina grabs hold of my shoulders, and a wicked grin curves on her lips. “I never liked you Lemon girls. Always thinking you were better than everyone else. Fun fact? When you were in high school, and your dumb boyfriend was sleeping around with everyone he could corner, I just so happened to be on that list.”
I gasp at the thought. Bear really was an idiot way back when.
I haul off and slug her, landing one right on her nose. “That’s from Keelie and me.”
“Lemon?” Everett’s voice rings out like a gong once more.
