I take a moment to glare at her.
“What for?” Noah looks as if he’s ready to drive over to the preschool himself and tell Miss Moody a thing or two. And seeing how upset he is, he might find himself suspended, too—from the force.
“For organizing a hostile takeover of the classroom,” I cringe a little. “And for creating seventeen new rules, including no crying and one called everyone listen to Lyla or go home, for demoting all of the snack helpers, and for making three kids cry.” I leave out the bit about the kid who was seeking legal counsel. We’ve got enough on our plates already.
Both men seem to stop breathing.
Noah closes his eyes as a mournful smile takes over.
Everett’s jaw twitches. “She’s two.”
“And apparently, middle management material,” I say. “Miss Moody suggested leadership camp. Or therapy. Possibly both.”
“Nah,” Carlotta is quick to eschew the responsible navigating of Lyla Nell’s personality traits. “I’ll take Little Yippie under my wing,” Carlotta volunteers. “I can show her the ropes down at the bingo hall, and when she’s old enough, I’ll teach her how to count cards and sweet-talk bartenders into free drinks.”
Percy ruffles his feathers. “The child is like a pressure cooker left unattended, full of potential, building steam, and likely to explode all over the kitchen if someone doesn’t release the valve.”
Lyla Nell toddles into the kitchen at that exact moment,blissfully unaware that she’s been the star of an emergency parenting summit where we’ve been pondering her future as either a CEO or a supervillain.
She’s holding one of her blocks and looks more than pleased with herself.
“I build big house!” she announces.
“That’s great, baby girl,” Noah says, scooping her up. “But maybe tomorrow we talk about how to build towers without making other kids cry, okay?”
“They cry too much,” she says matter-of-factly. “They be crybabies.”
Noah’s dimples dig in, and I can tell he’s trying not to laugh. “That’s not the point, sweetheart.”
She pats his cheek. “Okay, Daddy.”
Sadly, I don’t believe her for a second.
Everett checks his watch. “It’s almost six. If we’re leaving for Leeds at six-thirty, we need to figure out childcare.”
“Already handled,” I say. “Lainey and Keelie are coming over. Between the two of them, they can manage the kids and Carlotta.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” Carlotta protests.
“You got us banned from the Evergreen Manor,” I say. “You’re getting a babysitter.”
“You wish you can hold me down,” she grumbles but doesn’t argue further.
Noah sets Lyla Nell down and looks at me. “So we’re really doing this. Walking into a mysterious lounge to play games with a woman who claims to have all the dirt on a murder victim’s social circle.”
“That’s right,” I say, snapping up one of my chocolate chip cookies and indulging in a bite.Mmm, so good, if I do say so myself.
“And we have no idea what kind of game we’replaying?” he asks.
“Nope.”
Everett frowns. “It could be a trap.”
“It could be a breakthrough,” I counter.
Percy materializes on the back of a chair. “Only one way to find out, Lottie Lemon. And honestly, after dead fish and a suspended toddler, what’s one more adventure into chaos?”
“That’s the spirit,” Carlotta says, draining her glass.
