“Tomorrow is the Fourth,” I point out, bending down to scratch Watson behind the ears as he presses against my legs with what feels like relief. “And according to tradition, the fireworks don’t start until dusk.”
“Not those fireworks,” Niki says, her eyes bright with an excitement that never ends well. “I just saw Nona Jo and Loretta Lasagna walk into Flip’s restaurant down the street.”
“Stromboli, Niki,” I correct automatically. “Her name is Loretta Siracha. Or Salamander. Or possibly Sassafras. I can never keep it straight either.”
Watson barks like he has thoughts on the name confusion, then settles at my feet to scan for fallen treats.
“Whatever her name is,” Niki continues, pulling out her phone in haste, “she and Nona Jo just walked into Flip’s place at the same time. From opposite directions. Sort of like a standoff at high noon.”
Lottie, Suze, and Lily have all gone still, clearly sensing whatever’s about to happen will beat scrubbing frosting off counters.
“So?” I ask, already feeling that familiar drop in my stomach that usually means family chaos is incoming.
“So?” Niki stares at me like I’ve missed something obvious. “Two women, one man, an enclosed space with breakable objects and witnesses. Do the math, Effie.”
She’s already typing furiously on her phone, with thumbs flying over the screen.
“Who are you texting?” I ask, even though I’m pretty sure I know.
“Aunt Cat and Carlotta,” Niki says without looking up. “Code red at Flip’s. We need backup.”
Watson lets out a soft whine, like he already knows he’s about to get drafted.
“Why do we need backup for two women having dinner?” I ask and immediately regret it.
Niki looks up. “Because they’re not having dinner, Effie. They’re headed straight for ground zero. And when the explosion happens, we want to be there to manage the fallout. Or at least be entertained by the show.” She thinks about it for a second. “And maybe get some live footage,” she adds with a grin that lets me know it was her plan all along. On the bright side, she has a good chance of going viral with it.
Lottie glances at the clock and then at our empty display cases. “Go,” she says, making an executive decision based on the potential felony brewing. “I’ll close up early. Your presence alone could save your family a fortune in legal fees.”
Watson pops to his feet like he’s been waiting for this exact moment and heads for the door, fully convinced chaos means snacks.
He’s right on both counts.
“Come on,” Niki says, heading out. “If we hurry, we might beat the first punch.”
Some days end with quiet satisfaction and a job well done. Other days end with emergency family interventions at local restaurants where two Italian women are about to throw hands over a diner owner.
Today has chosen violence.
CHAPTER 16
The late afternoon sun hits Main Street just right, turning everything soft and golden like it belongs in a Norman Rockwell painting.
Except Norman Rockwell never painted two Italian crime families mobilizing outside a fifties diner where at least one senior citizen is about to throw down over a man.
Aunt Cat and Carlotta appear as if they’ve been summoned, both wearing enough freedom gear to run a political rally—subtlety has never been their thing.
“This better be good,” Aunt Cat grouses, adjusting her purse strap like she’s gearing up for battle. “I was in the middle of buying sparkler earrings for tomorrow.”
“Trust me,” Niki says, practically vibrating as we head down Main Street like the world’s most inappropriately dressed SWAT team. “This is going to beat any fireworks show you’ve ever seen.”
Watson trots beside us, his flag bandana fluttering, nose working overtime.
Every storefront we pass is decked out for the Fourth—flags, bunting, and enough star-shaped decorations to make the night sky jealous.
The hardware store has a banner screamingPatriotic Paint Sale—Red, White & Blue Your World!while the flower shop window is packed with arrangements that took “land of the free” a little too seriously. Even the dry cleaners has gotten involved with a sign promisingFreedom from Stains!
Pity no one in Honey Hollow can offer freedom from murder. Homicide doesn’t seem to care what time of year it is.
