“Exactly like that,” Everett says, pressing a kiss to Corbin’s head. “Except their time-out involves orange jumpsuits and bars.”
“And probably terrible food,” Noah adds. “Prison cafeteria makes hospital food look gourmet.”
The festival spreads out before us in all its Easter glory—giant inflatable bunnies standing guard over vendor booths, children running around with faces painted like various woodland creatures, and enough chocolate being consumed to guarantee a sugar crash of epic proportions for the entire state of Vermont.
It’s the kind of scene that would be perfect for a greeting card if you ignored the fact that we just solved a brutal murder involving money laundering and lethal family betrayal.
“Lottie!” Lenny’s voice calls out, and I look around to see him materializing in a shower of bright blue stars to my right. “I wanted to say goodbye to my sweet princess before I left.”
He trots over with a regal stride despite the fact that he’s translucent and glowing a pale shade of blue.
“I’m afraid it’s time for me to head to the pride in the sky,” Lenny growls it out softly while giving Lyla Nell a gentle lick on the side of her face. She dissolves into giggles and starts clapping with the kind of pure joy that makes you remember why the world is worth saving.
“Lenny,mylion!” she shouts with delight. “Mine!Allmine!Get in my Easter basket!”
We all burst into laughter, because honestly, we needed a touch of levity today.
“I would love to get in your Easter basket, little princess,” Lenny says, his voice warm with affection. “But I have somewhere else I need to go now.”
Just like that, he starts to float into the sky, his form becoming more translucent as he rises. “Goodbye, everyone. Happy Easter to all! He is Risen!”
“He is Risen indeed!” I shout back, and there’s something about the moment that makes my chest tight with emotion. Even Ozzy stops fussing long enough to wave a chubby hand at our departing lion, and I give a little gasp.
Oh no. I glance up at Everett, and he shoots me a horrified look.
“It was probably nothing,” I say. “He’s too little to wave.”
Everett nods a little too quickly. “He’s probably trying to reach for one of the balloons.”
Or he’s inherited my ability to see the dead. And if that’s true, at least Lyla Nell will have someone to talk to about the matter.
Lenny gives one final roar that sounds suspiciously like laughter before disappearing in a shower of blue stars that sparkle and fade like the world’s most beautiful fireworks display.
“Well,” I say, wiping the tears from my eyes. “That was definitely the most memorable Easter Sunday on record.”
“Lottie!” Mom’s voice calls out across the festival grounds, and I turn to see her approaching with Wiley in tow.
Wiley is decked out in full Easter regalia—bunny ears that are slightly crooked, a pink bow tie that clashes magnificently with his usual far-too-cool-for-school demeanor, and what appears to be a cotton tail pinned to his behind. And right about now, he looks as if he’s questioning every life choice that led him to this moment.
“Glam Glam!” Lyla Nell shouts, holding up her fist toward Wiley for their traditional greeting.
He bumps her tiny knuckles with his own, and she dissolves into giggles again. “Wiley bunny!Funnybunny!”
“Yes, sweetheart,” he says with the long-suffering tone that comes from realizing patience is optional when dealing with chocolate-hungry children. “Wiley is a very funny bunny.”
“More like a very desperate bunny,” Carlotta says, appearing beside us with chocolate smeared across her chin and what appears to be Easter grass in her hair. “Though I have to admit, the ears are working for you, Foxy Senior. Very distinguished. Very retired bartender who’s having a midlife crisis.”
“I am not having a midlife crisis,” he protests, but his voice lacks conviction.
“Says the man wearing a cotton tail,” Everett points out with amusement.
Before anyone can respond, Mayor Nash waddles up wearing his official mayoral sash and looking like he’s been sampling the festival food with far too much fervor and leaving far too many stains on his dress shirt to prove it.
“Lottie!” he announces, slightly out of breath. “Congratulations on another job well done! The people of Honey Hollow sleep safer knowing you’re out there fighting crime and solving mysteries.”
“Thanks, Mayor Nash,” I reply. “Though I have to point out that the people of Honey Hollow might sleep even safer if we could go more than three months without a homicide.”
“Details.” He waves dismissively. “The important thing is that justice has been served. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go officiate the Easter egg hunt. My mayoral duties await.”
