32. Lottie

LOTTIE

H ow can it be?

More to the point, how could I have missed this?

Although in my defense, I didn't know where to look for that final piece to the puzzle—and yet I was given the piece by the killer herself.

I marvel at the epiphany that just hit me as bodies swirl all around, streaming in and out of the ballroom here at the Evergreen Manor.

It's the night of the annual Honey Hollow Christmas party, and I swear all of Vermont has shown up for this one.

"Thimblewick," I say, astonished at the revelation I just had—which, of course, was sponsored by the obituary I just read. "Why didn't you tell me? We need to find Noah. We need to find Everett. Heck, at this point, I'd settle for Ivy."

"Would you settle for her ?" He points a crooked finger at the mouth of the entry to the establishment and a breath hitches in my throat.

"She's leaving," I say, doing my best to speed in that direction.

No sooner do we crest the entry than I spot the woman in question standing on the expansive porch that overlooks all of Honey Hollow.

The air is icy, the snow glows an ethereal shade of blue under the supervision of the moon, and each breath I take plumes out in a frozen spray of crystals.

I pick up my velvet gown so it doesn't touch the ground and reveal my sturdy yet trusty snow boots. It might not be the prettiest pairing with my Mrs. Claus-inspired gown, but it keeps the twins safe in the elements, and I care far more for the twins than I do fashion.

My steps are measured and as silent as can be as I do my best to sneak up on her.

A white cloud plumes around my final suspect, and it takes a moment for me to realize she's smoking.

"I do say, Lottie"—Thimblewick glows a neon shade of green as he floats alongside me in the night—"why don't we save this fun for later? I haven't said a proper goodbye to Carlotta yet."

"It can't wait," I say. "She's only steps from the parking lot. I have to know if what I'm thinking is right."

I have to know if she's indeed the killer, but I don't dare utter those words.

She turns around and startles, her short dark hair sits over her head like a cap, and that red sparkling gown glitters in this dim light.

"Oh, Lottie." She chortles. "I was just stealing a moment for myself." She holds out the cigarette. "I'm sorry. This is a nasty habit. And it's definitely not good for you or the babies." She quickly drops the cigarette and puts it out with her shoe.

Clara Dickens Greenmantle stands proudly as she takes me in.

"What in the world are you doing out here, Lottie?" She laughs. "You're going to catch your death."

"You seem to know a lot about death."

"Pardon?" She laughs again, although it seems to be waning this time.

"I mean, you just had a friend pass away."

Thimblewick chuckles. "Good save, Lottie. But Carlotta would have probably done better."

I'd frown at him, but I don't dare take Clara or myself out of the moment.

"Oh, right." She squeezes her eyes shut tight. "I was just thinking about Glenda. Poor, poor Glenda. You know I have a feeling she'd still be alive if she could only figure out how to keep her mouth shut."

"I believe you're right," I say.

"You do?" She blinks back and laughs. "Well, I am. That woman knew more secrets than the CIA."

"She knew your secrets, too, didn't she?" I ask just above a whisper and Clara all but freezes solid.

"Wh—what secrets are you talking about?" She glances past me. "I'm sorry, Lottie, but I think we'd both better get inside before we really do catch our deaths." She tries to step around me and I block her path.

"I brought a special treat from my bakery tonight. Something just for you—peanut butter brownies. I thought they might be special to you since you mentioned that you baked them for your husband just before he passed away."

"Oh, that," she practically shouts with relief. "Oh, for goodness' sake, Lottie. I had no idea what you were talking about." She laughs as an icy breeze picks up. "Why, yes, I'd love to have one. And you're right. They are special to me. They certainly remind me of my Harlan. Poor, sweet man. He really was the world to me."

"Was he?" I ask. "I mean, you mentioned that he hired Felix." Or someone mentioned it. Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure it was my mother, but I'm not correcting myself.

"I did?" She inches back and her fingers scratch at her throat. "Oh, that's right. He worked insurance." She pulls out that last word.

"No, actually, he was a private detective. He specialized in cheating spouses, so I can only surmise that your husband suspected you of such. You would have been cut out of his will. He was very wealthy, and you did have a late-in-life marriage. You mentioned that to me yourself the other day. That's why you killed your husband, isn't it? By way of peanut butter. The obituary mentioned his allergy to nuts. But then, you know that. And you also know that you wouldn't have gotten a penny had he divorced you."

She swallows hard. "How?" She shakes her head as she inspects me. "Oh, Lottie…" She sizes me up. "You have no idea what a mistake you've just made, for you and for your children. Yes, I killed Harlan. You were right. He suspected me of cheating. And to my detriment I was. But I dumped the fool, and then I had to kill the fool I was married to. There was no way I was going to be left destitute."

"What's with Felix?" Thimblewick asks.

I shake my head because I'm stumped by this, too. "How did you get Felix so wrapped around your finger?"

"Look at me." She holds out her hands and laughs. "Oh, come on, Lottie. You, of all people, know how to use your womanly wiles. Your mother can't stop bragging about the fact you have not one but two men dangling on a string. Sometimes our best asset is ourselves. Too bad you won't be able to explore that option any longer. Just like I couldn't let Glenda run around trying to blackmail me into oblivion. That little witch couldn't stop digging into my past until she dug so far that she dug her own grave. And now you've done the same. I had to kill her, and now I have to kill you, too."

She takes a bold step forward just as footfalls run this way from behind, and I'm more than relieved to see?—

"Carlotta?" I squawk, suddenly as far from relieved as one can get.

"Thimblewick, thank goodness," she pants. "I've got less than five hours to meet my deadline. How about you take it to the finish line? I know a nook and cranny back in that fancy hotel that we could jingle bell rock."

" Carlotta ," I snip. "This woman just confessed to being the killer," I say, snatching Clara by the wrist before she can get away.

"She did, didn't she?" Thimblewick says as he holds out his hands and inspects his limbs as they grow increasingly pale. "What's happening to me? Why am I disappearing?"

"Aw shucks, Lot," Carlotta shouts. "Couldn't you have waited until after midnight to send this purple hat-wearing, knitting needle-wielding killer to the Orange Jumpsuit Society? Now I've got to find someone else to jingle bell rock with—and on such short notice. You have no idea the time that went into training this one."

"Training me?" he balks. "I'll have you know, I came ready to rumble and tumble." His voice grows faint and his body all but evaporates. "I refuse to leave you, Carlotta," he calls out as he grabs her by the arm. "You're coming with me!"

" No ," I shout as I grab onto Carlotta's other arm while my left hand is still holding onto Clara Dickens Greenmantle with a death grip.

" Lemon ," Everett shouts and both he and Noah run at top speed in this direction.

"Lottie, get away from that woman," Noah shouts.

I'm about to say something when the world around us warps and stretches.

A bolt of lavender lightning sprays over us from above, and just like that, we blink right out of that frozen porch and straight to?—

I give a few hard blinks at the sparkling frozen world around us.

"Lot?" Carlotta's voice pitches as she says my name. "I have a feeling we're not in Honey Hollow anymore."

"You're not," Thimblewick says with a touch of pride, wholly himself once again. "Welcome to the North Pole."