21. Lottie

LOTTIE

H oney Lake is filled with anticipation, laughter, and the occasional snowball zipping on by—courtesy of some of the younger spectators—okay, so some of the older spectators as well—here at the Frosty Follies as the big snowman competition is about to begin.

A loud air horn goes off, and soon snow is flying, limbs are flying, and a few light expletives are flying as well. I can't blame them. Snow is both ice cold and it tends to get heavy once rolled into a ball the size of a refrigerator.

Both Noah and Everett get right to work as Lyla Nell and I watch intently.

Noah's snowman starts to take shape, looking like a detective from a classic mystery, complete with a magnifying glass he's brought along as a prop.

"Elementary, my dear Watson," Noah quips as he adjusts the traditional deerstalker hat atop the snowman's head.

"Not bad, Noah," Everett calls out, carefully sculpting his own snowman's features. "But I think mine will appeal to the judiciary fans among us." He steps back to reveal a snowman donning a robe of leaves and twigs and holding a bona fide gavel in its hand.

Carlotta leans back to inspect their work. "You call that a couple of snowmen? I think those poor frozen beasts might need their own legal representation after this."

Everett looks back at Noah's work and leans in to inspect it. "I'll admit, he's got an interesting aesthetic. But can he solve the mystery of the missing carrot nose?" He walks over and brazenly plucks the carrot right off of Noah's snowman's face and sticks it in the face of his own frozen wonder.

And Lyla Nell claps up a storm because of it.

"Oh, is that how it goes?" Noah laughs. "It looks to me as if we have a snowman courthouse drama on our hands. There's clearly a frosty felony to uncover. Don't worry, Lot. I've trained my snowman well."

Everett laughs, shaking his head. "If you trained your snowman, then I think we all know he couldn't track down a snowflake if his frozen life depended on it."

Yikes. It looks as if Noah is about to get the brunt of all that stress Everett has been carrying around as of late.

I pull Lyla Nell close and hand her a butterscotch chip cookie before taking one for myself.

Noah gives a solemn nod. "It's a cold case, but my man is on it. Rumor has it, the suspect left a trail of icy footprints—baby footprints. I bet the kid is yours, Baxter."

Everett growls in response and Carlotta laughs like a loon. I'll be honest, it's hard for me not to join along.

"All right, Foxy"—Carlotta starts—"don't feel too bad. After all, you finally have someone in custody—even if it is Sexy's snowman. How does it feel to nab a perpetrator that won't melt under the white-hot spotlight of interrogation?"

"Very funny, Carlotta." Noah shakes his head my way as if it were all my fault that he hasn't nabbed a killer in years, and it sort of is.

Carlotta turns to Everett. "And don't think I'm leaving you out of the fun, Sexy. With the number of offspring suddenly rearing their Little Yippy heads, I'm starting to think you've taken a part-time job with the stork. Should we expect any more surprise deliveries, or have all the bouncing baby girls been accounted for?"

Everett and Noah exchange a glance, and suddenly I need another cookie. I'm not even going to ask what that look was about.

"Carlotta"—Everett gets back to putting the finishing touches on his frozen work of art—"I assure you, my stork days are behind me. Mostly." He sighs hard. "I'll admit, it's getting a bit crowded on my branch of the family tree."

"I'll say." I pat my belly as if to prove it.

"Don't worry, Lot." Carlotta steps away from her snowman as Thimblewick does most of the work for her, and it's pretty darn good. Santa would be proud. If he existed. "If it gets too crowded in Mr. Sexy's house, you can always shack up with Foxy again. After all, he was your first boy toy. Everyone knows that high school blunder you had doesn't count."

That high school blunder would be Bear Fisher. And boy, what I wouldn't do to rewind time and run the other way when that Bear started stalking me like prey.

Carlotta cranes her neck in Noah's direction. "I must say, Foxy, it's not every day you see a man lose his wife to a judge without a single court date."

Technically, Everett and I did have an official court date. It ended in my favor, which very much worked in his .

Noah chuckles at the thought. "Well, Carlotta, I guess it proves Everett has always had a knack for persuasive arguments. But don't worry. I've filed an appeal in the court of karma. We'll see who has the last laugh." He winks my way.

Everett laughs just to spite him. "Karma has already done her work—with you."

"I don't know, Sexy." Carlotta folds her arms as Thimblewick spins around that snowman like a pointy-eared tornado. "I wouldn't go thinking you're out in the clear just yet. With all those girls, you're going to need a bigger wallet." She turns my way. "I wouldn't be surprised if you find IOUs in your Christmas stocking instead of gifts this year. Everyone knows a whole gaggle of girls can tap even the biggest of bank accounts."

Everett raises a brow. "You're right. Maybe I should start charging rent to my boarders." A smile tugs at his lips, but he is far too deliciously stubborn to give it.

And just like that, Carlotta is back to busying herself with Thimblewick's creation.

As all of the creations around us come to life, the crowds busy themselves like never before as laughter fills the air.

The air horn goes off again and a collective cheer echoes around the lake.

And as everyone wraps up, I quickly snap a few pictures of them with their frosty counterparts. Both Noah and Everett look on par with each other as far as skill and craftsmanship.

I turn to snap a picture of Carlotta's frozen masterpiece and freeze solid myself.

"Oh my word." My voice wobbles as if I were suddenly stuck in a fever dream.

Thimblewick wasn't just whistling candy canes. He created a bona fide work of art! Slightly borrowed in the sense that he carved a perfect rendition of the Mona Lisa , if the Mona Lisa had a carrot for a nose and wore a purple Santa hat.

Soon enough, a crowd has gathered around Carlotta's unbelievable frozen wonder—emphasis on the unbelievable part. Everyone in Honey Hollow knows Carlotta isn't capable of something like that.

My mother and the rest of the snowman art jury amble this way to inspect the frosty beauties at this end of the lake and with them is Mayor Nash. I'm guessing he's sort of an honorary judge here today.

"And how did my honey do?" He laughs as he says it before feasting his eyes on the Mona-Freeza . "Oh my goodness."

"Oh my goodness," Mom echoes and so do about six other women wearing purple Santa hats.

"I guess we have a clear winner in the senior division," Mom calls out. "Carlotta Sawyer!" She hands her a gift card with my bakery's name stamped on the front. "Can someone get a picture of this for the town paper? I think we've got a celebrity artist in our midst!"

More like a celebrity elf . A dead one at that.

Mayor Nash wraps an arm around Carlotta. "You know, I think we've all won here today," he says, smiling. "And the best part was watching you compete. You're the gift that keeps on giving." He nibbles on her ear and she giggles up a storm. "How about we get a cookie before they're all gone and maybe some eggnog, too?"

"Fine, but I'm adding some extra spice to my eggnog." She pulls a silver flask from her purse. "Have rum, will travel." They get about three feet before Carlotta flings that gift card just shy of Francine's head. "I get my baked goods for free. Have fun watching your hips get fluffy!"

"You cheated and you know it," Francine calls out after them. "And I'm going to find out how you did it, too! And by the way, thank you !"

Both Noah and Everett lose to Forest Donovan. And even though they're not too happy about it, I'm thrilled for my sister and her sweet hubby.

Thimblewick floats my way and growls, "Who was that man who whisked off the woman of my dreams?"

"Which dream?" I ask. "The long-haired silver maven or the spicy rum ball nightmare that just trotted off with her beau?"

"That one," he scowls. "What's he got that I don't have?"

"A body for starters."

The crowd parts just enough to reveal a rather elfish brunette picking up after the kids that took off for cookier pastures.

"Speaking of bodies," I say. "It's time to put the squeeze on another one of our suspects."

For Noah and Ivy's sake, I hope this woman is the killer.