Watson has somehow acquired a hemp collar from a sympathetic vendor and is wearing it like he’s made a series of better life choices than I have.
He probably has.
“Well,” I say as we drive away from Moonbeam Meadows with its clouds of incense and frazzled auras, “that was educational.”
“Those people are crazier than we are,” Aunt Cat declares, “and I once bedazzled a casket.”
That is crazy indeed. Also, Aunt Cat would do just about anything for those she loves. Including bedazzle a casket.
And at the rate the bodies are dropping, we all might need to get fitted for a casket soon enough.
We head back toward Honey Hollow and take a moment to process what Sunshine revealed. Flip’s son. Julia’s fake identity. A web of lies and revenge that makes Larry’s death look less like random food poisoning—if that’s indeed what did him in—and more like carefully planned payback.
Watson curls up in Niki’s lap, exhausted from his manipulative efforts and organic treat sampling.
I glance back at the three roaming catastrophes I’m traveling with and sigh.
There’s a killer out there somewhere.
And after today, I’m not even sure they’re the biggest problem.
CHAPTER 13
It’s later that evening and the Cutie Pie Bakery smells like vanilla and the kind of exhaustion that comes from serving patriotic desserts to people who take their flag cakes way too seriously.
“I’m never making another flag cake again,” Suze announces, scrubbing frosting off the counter like she’s trying to erase evidence of a crime. “If one more person asks me if I counted the stripes correctly, I’m setting something on fire.”
“You already threatened that around noon with the constitutional cake guy,” Lily points out, restacking plates in a way that makes me think she’s got some undiagnosed issues with chaos.
“That was a completely justified threat,” Suze mutters.
“I don’t doubt it,” I tell her.
I’m wiping tables while Lottie does her nightly walk-through, which mostly involves silent judgment about things we can’t see but she definitely can.
“Good work today, everyone.” Lottie unties her apron, which is somehow still spotless because she’s apparently made of Teflon, and grabs her keys from the hook by the register. “Effie, can you handle the trash before you leave?”
“You bet, boss.”
She pauses at the door. “Are you still having dinner with Cooper and his sister tonight?”
I make a face. “Unfortunately, yes.” I don’t even try to sound enthusiastic about it. “The Coop part is great. The Loretta Spumoni part, not so great.”
Lily and Lottie chuckle.
“Is it that bad?” Suze asks as she takes a bite out of a chocolate chip cookie.
“Let me put it this way—no amount of free Italian food is worth two hours of Loretta explaining in excruciating detail why everything I do is wrong and how Cooper could do so much better.” Not that she’s done that in front of me, but at night, when I can’t sleep, her running commentary runs freely through my imagination.
I grab the bulging trash bag from under the counter.
“But Cooper asked me to come, so I’m going,” I say with a shrug. “Like a supportive girlfriend. Or a masochist. I honestly can’t tell the difference anymore.”
“Good luck with that,” Lily says in a tone that screamsI’m going to need divine intervention and possibly a strong drink.
Lottie waves goodnight and disappears into the summer evening, leaving me with the trash and my impending social doom.
The alley behind the bakery smells like dumpsters and things that shouldn’t be left out overnight. I hoist the trash bag toward the industrial dumpster and something just down the way catches my eye.
