28. Lottie

LOTTIE

" N oah Corbin Fox." I laugh as he holds a sprig of mistletoe over my head like a lusty, leafy threat, and it's exactly that. "All right, fine. Come here." I pull him close by the tie and his eyes widen to the size of my sugar cookies before he closes them and puckers up.

I dot a quick kiss to his cheek before taking him by the hand.

"That's it?" he asks, rubbing the scruff on his cheek.

Honestly, both he and Everett have the same amount of scruff on their cheeks, and if I had closed my eyes, I may have accidently fooled myself into thinking I was kissing Everett. And well, that could have led to all sorts of weird places.

And believe me, the three of us have visited those weird places one too many times. Not to mention my out-of-control hormones have all but taken over. And have I mentioned his spiced cologne, that dark wool coat that brings out his verdant green eyes, and those dimples of his that keep winking at me?

It's a wonder I don't pull him into the nearest dark alley.

Where is my husband again? These raging hormones are half his doing.

"My mother has Lyla Nell," I say, pulling Noah along. "They're strolling up and down the street looking at the Christmas lights, and she might just hold the key to Glenda Dasher's murder!"

"Please don't tell me that you've added yet another mother to the suspect list—yours."

"No. Not yet at least," I say as we reach the corner. The snow has blanketed the ground like a marshmallow dream, the twinkle lights that line Main Street glow like ethereal stars that are suspended between the street lights, there's a glowing wreath in the window of every shop that lines the cobbled path, and the scent of my chocolate cake permeates the air on this fine snowy evening.

"No sign of your mother," he says. "So, care to fill me in on what you're thinking?"

"Not unless you care to fill me in on that thing you and Everett think I might find upsetting."

His brows furrow at the mention of it. "Has Everett said something to you?"

"No, why? What does he have to say?"

"I plead the fifth."

I'm about to use my womanly wiles to pull the truth out of him when I spot my mother and Lyla Nell coming this way. And believe me, my womanly wiles always work with Noah.

"Oh, here they are," I say, waving like mad.

" Lottie, Noah ," Mom sings.

She's wrapped in a red coat and has her purple Santa hat on, representing her women's club as if her life depended on it. Although, considering the killer was at their holiday party, it might be advisable that she ditches the hat for a while.

"We just had such a time," Mom coos as she reaches down and adjusts the baby's hat. "Lyla Nell, tell them how much fun you had with Glam Glam. I bought us matching mittens and the cutest little light-up Christmas tree earrings. They wink and blink and even sing ‘Jingle Bells'! I thought we'd wear them tomorrow night."

" Glam Glam! " Lyla Nell claps and laughs. She has a purple Santa hat on and a red wool coat, neither of which she had on when I sent her with my mother, and suddenly I fear she's taken a blood oath to partake in all of my mother's shenanigans for life.

"Here's my baby girl," Noah says, bowing down and giving Lyla Nell a kiss and a quick snuggle and leaving her giggling like mad.

"Mom, the night of Glenda Dasher's murder, before well, you know—while she was still alive, I saw her speaking with a gray-haired man. He looked older, about your age."

Mom growls right at me.

"That's not what I meant," I say.

Noah steps in. "What she meant to say was the man may hold the key to Glenda's murder. Who is he?"

Mom gasps at the thought. "His name is Felix Sterling. He's Clara's boyfriend. They met back in Sugar Loaf. And that was a little under two years ago."

"Felix Sterling." Noah rocks back on his heels. "Why does that sound familiar?"

"He works insurance," Mom adds. "Or at least he did. He's retired now. He's a very nice guy. Clara forever has him doing little odd jobs for the Purple Santa Hat Society. She said her husband once hired him to do some work as well. Which would make sense since Clara's husband was a very wealthy man. But I guess after he passed away, she and Felix discovered they had feelings for one another. Like I said, he's been a real help to the society. In fact, tonight he's commandeering our chariot." She points down the street just as a giant horse-drawn carriage wrapped in twinkle lights heads this way.

"Oh wow," I say. "Talk about Cinderella's carriage."

"Isn't it beautiful?" Mom sighs. "Lyla Nell and I had the very first ride of the evening. It's on loan to my club until after the new year. We're charging a mint to ride. A friend of a friend had access to either the carriage or an open-air sleigh, but with the weather being so unpredictable, we went with this. We're calling it the Christmas Carriage. And if you think the outside is elegant, the inside is made of sumptuous crimson velvet. Santa himself would be proud to take a spin in it."

"And you said Felix is the driver?" I ask. "Noah, we have to get in that carriage."

"You should," Mom says. "But you'll have to try after the holidays." She points down the street where the mob of people has gathered. "There's a line a mile long. You'll never?—"

"Watch Lyla Nell," I call out as I grab Noah's hand and we run down the street.

"Sheriff's department!" Noah holds up his badge as he speeds us to the front of the line just as the carriage lands at its designated port and drops off its passengers.

" Next ," a deep voice shouts from inside and Noah all but body checks a couple about to set foot into it.

"Here." Noah quickly pulls a wad of cash out of his wallet and stuffs it into the couple's hands. "Have dinner on us." He helps me into the glittering chariot, and no sooner am I seated than someone shouts for us to hold our horses.

I happen to recognize that gravelly howl and groan as Carlotta catapults herself into the carriage with all the grace of a ballistic missile.

Before I can say a word, a spray of red and green stars fills the cabin as Thimblewick materializes, sitting right on Carlotta's lap.

" Ooh , Thimblewick is here," I whisper to Noah as I take up his hand. My body sort of works as a conduit, and if Noah is holding my hand, he can hear the dead, too.

The silver-haired driver of our chariot turns our way. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Are you ready to have the time of your life?"

"Yes, sir," we all respond in kind.

Thimblewick nods his way. "I'm already having the time of my after life."

Noah's eyes widen for a moment before lifting a brow my way and I shrug.

"Carlotta has been making sure he's comfortable," I whisper.

"That's right," Carlotta snorts. "He's so comfortable, he doesn't want to leave." She makes big eyes at me as if this might be a problem. And if it is, then it's her own darn fault for getting frisky with the naughty elf to begin with.

Noah clears his throat as he nods to the driver. "My name is Noah, and this is my wife, Lottie." He ticks his head my way as if asking me to go with it.

"Nice to meet you both," the man calls out as he sets the horses into a steady stride as we start down the cobbled streets of Honey Hollow. "I'm Felix. I'll be your escort through the snowy street of this sweet town." He glances back at Carlotta. "And what's your name, Honey Blossom?"

"Honey Blossom?" Thimblewick manages to look affronted by the spontaneous nickname. "I do believe he's enamored by my paramour." A growl comes from him and his cheeks glow like fiery coals.

"What's happening?" I ask and Carlotta grunts.

"He can't get enough of me, Lot. He doesn't want it to end. He says he's going to stay put until the Grim Reaper escorts me to the North Pole himself."

I shrug her way. "I bet the Grim Reaper will be wearing a Santa hat when he does the deed, too. 'Tis the season."

She narrows her eyes at me for even tempting fate to go there.

Felix chuckles. "You are a looker," he says to Carlotta.

Thimblewick gasps. "I knew he was flirting with you."

" Felix ," I say, ready to get the investigative ball moving. "This is Carlotta. She's my mother." Seeing that we're doling out lies, it only seemed fitting. "In fact, she's a part of the Purple Santa Hat Society. She says all proceeds from the carriage ride go to charity."

"That's right," he muses. "I'm helping out my"—he glances back at Carlotta—"a friend who is also in the club."

Noah and I exchange a frown. We know full well that his girlfriend is Clara Dickens Greenmantle. Although, now that he thinks he has a chance with Carlotta, he's suddenly and unimpressively single.

"Tragedy what happened the other night," I say, and Noah gives my hand a squeeze as if to say good work.

"Ah, yes." Felix shakes his head as we head farther down the street toward the official town Christmas tree. It's a thirty-foot noble that is strewn with white twinkle lights from top to bottom and covered in adorable glittery ornaments made by the local schoolchildren. It looks like magic sitting in the middle of the town square.

"I was there that horrible night," Felix says with a sigh. "Glenda, that was the woman's name, she could be a handful, but she deserved to take her next breath just like the rest of us."

"Any word on what happened?" Noah asks and the carriage grows quiet as a tomb as we await his response.

Felix ticks his head to the side. "Word has it that one of the members, a psychotic loon, was seen holding the knitting needles that killed the poor woman."

I bite down on a smile as he says it.

It looks as if Felix Sterling has a propensity to tell the truth after all—at least where it counts.