19. Lottie

LOTTIE

" M om! You won't believe what's happening," Evie calls out from the top of the stairs as she thunders her way down.

It's not even seven in the morning, and I'm down in the kitchen getting the coffee going and heating up a few chocolate croissants for Everett and me before he takes off for the courthouse.

"For Pete's sake." I rush out to the living room. "What's going on? Is Lyla Nell all right?"

"She's fine," Evie says, jumping from the third step onto the sofa as she's prone to do, and the Christmas tree shakes in her wake.

"What's happening?" Carlotta shouts from the top of the stairs as she hugs the banister and glides down on her belly—as she's prone to do.

"Does anyone take the stairs down anymore?" I ask just as Everett rushes down, taking them two at a time. He's missing the jacket to his suit and his tie is askew.

"What's happening?" he asks, pulling me into his arms. "Where's Lyla Nell? Is it the babies? Is it time?"

"The babies are fine," I say, holding my belly. "Evie, what's going on?"

"Dad, Mom, you are going to die, " she practically shrieks. She's still clad in her pink PJ's with the red Christmas stocking print that I picked up for her and Lyla Nell so they could match. Her face is bare of cosmetics, a rarity these days, and her hair is up in a messy bun.

"If Lot Lot and Sexy are kicking the bucket, I'll be the sole survivor." Carlotta's eyes reflect the twinkle lights from the tree and garland. "Don't worry, Lot. I'll give Little Yippy to your real mama. That way Thimblewick and I can have this whole place to ourselves." She shrugs my way. "He found my bedroom a little confining for our acrobatics. We're going to need the room."

I suck in a breath at the thought. "You stop moving your lips," I tell her. "Evie, start moving yours. You about gave me a heart attack. What's going on?"

"Yes," Everett says. "It must be important if you're up before noon."

True as gospel. Whenever Evie comes home from school, she rarely gets out of bed before one or two unless something cataclysmic is happening. And something tells me whatever this is, it is very much cataclysmic.

"You guys!" She bounces so hard that her hair spills right out of her messy bun. "My notifications were going off like crazy and it woke me up. Usually, I turn them off, but, like, Conner and I were texting until about four and I totally forgot."

"Four?" Everett balks. "In the morning?"

Evie clucks her tongue. "Like you've never been in love."

"You're in love?" I ask sweetly as my heart begins to race again.

"What's the news?" Everett asks sternly. "Does this have to do with Conner?"

I can tell by the look in Everett's eye that he's gearing up for a homicide. And honestly, it's far too early for that nonsense.

"Dad, this is about you," she says with a gleam in her eye. "Harper Harper outed you to all of her followers!" She holds out her phone and both Everett and I migrate that way.

I gasp at the thought. "You mean she acknowledged that he's her father?"

"Sort of." She holds her phone our way and I'm right back to gasping.

" There's a creeper stalking me and he wants me to call him Daddy? " I read the latest post and recoil in horror.

" His name is Judge Essex Everett Baxter, but he goes by Mr. Sexy? " Everett reads, horrified.

"And get this—" Evie scrolls down a bit. "Hashtag CreeperJudge is trending! Isn't that so freaking cool? You're trending and it's all because you sired one of the trendiest Tickety Tock influencers around!"

Carlotta bursts out laughing and can't seem to stop.

"Oh hush, you," I tell her. "And Evie? Please don't use the word sired . It sounds so?—"

"Accurate?" Carlotta calls out before losing herself in a laughing fit once again.

I make a face at her, but before I can say anything, Everett's phone starts to beep.

"It's from the security team at the courthouse," he says, staring down at a text. "They said there's a mob of angry teenage girls swarming the entry demanding to know where I am."

"So freaking cool," Evie gushes.

"So not cool," I say. "What do they want?"

"His jingle bells on a skewer," Carlotta says as she settles down.

"You might be right, Carlotta." Everett shakes his head at his phone. "They're chanting justice for Harper ." He blows out a breath. "I've only got two cases. I'm going to transfer them to a couple of other judges on the docket today."

"What are we going to do?" Evie cries out and I can't tell if she's excited or afraid.

"I'll tell you what we're not going to do," I say. "We're not holing up at home with the blinds drawn as if the digital pitchforks could pierce through the windows. Everett, come down to Honey Lake with Noah and me this afternoon. The Purple Santa Hat Society is hosting the Frosty Follies. It's essentially a snowman building competition that spans all ages. There will be prizes ." I add that last tidbit as if it might put him over the edge.

"Prizes?" Carlotta jumps up. "I'd better get my snowman building gear together. And don't think I'm not going to win. I've got myself an elf on the shelf who can take me all the way to the finish line. And he's done it before, too." She starts for the stairs. "Gird your pointy ears, Thimblewick. I'm coming up for seconds." She winks my way. "More like fourths, but who's counting?"

" Carlotta ." I scrunch my nose at the woman.

"She's gross." Evie gets up and heads for the stairs herself. "I'm going back to bed. I hope I can get up again in time to build a snowman. Conner and I would so wipe the table with you guys."

"Says you," I tease before taking up Everett's hands and shrugging at him. "Don't worry. She's not in our age bracket. That prize is ours."

"Would you be insulted if I said I've already won the best prize—and that prize is you?"

"Not in the least." I laugh as I land a kiss on his lips. "What are we going to do about Harper?"

He sighs as he wraps his arms around me. "Let her have her rage for now. Maybe she'll work it out of her system. I'll try to contact her mother again and see if I can't smooth things over."

"You will," I say, dotting another kiss to his lips. "Harper doesn't know you, Everett. We'll clear this up and show everyone the kind of man—the kind of father that you really are."

But I'll admit, the digital storm raging outside has me worried. How are we supposed to navigate in a world where judgments are passed with likes and shares?

The injustice of it all burns me, but not just because of the false accusations, but because of how powerless we are when it comes to the beast of social media.

Harper can easily ruin his career without realizing it, and she might be putting him in danger to boot.

Harper Harper needs a talking to. And come to think of it, so does my next suspect, Clara Dickens Greenmantle.

I'm going to be the one to give it—at least to Clara.