7. Noah

NOAH

" O h, Mother, I'm so sorry," Ivy says, holding the older redhead who just stepped out of the Evergreen Manor.

I've never met Ivy's mother, despite the fact we've worked pretty closely for years. But I'm a bit preoccupied with my own mother at the moment.

The cold bite of the winter air doesn't compare to the chill settling in my bones as I glove up and place those knitting needles my mother is holding into an evidence bag.

The snowy backdrop, along with the cheery Christmas carols blaring from inside the ballroom, gives this crime scene a surreal feel.

It's one thing to work a crime scene, it's another when the prime suspect holding the murder weapon is your own mother.

The image of her holding those long spikes has already seared itself into my mind. I don't think I'll ever forget it.

"Come here," I say, walking her over a few feet away from the body as the coroner's office descends on the scene. Lottie, Everett, and Carlotta all follow along as well. "Mom, what the—?" I start with a mix of horror and disbelief, but I can't seem to find the words to finish the sentence. The badge in my pocket has never felt heavier.

Mom looks up and her face is lost in a knot of emotions.

"Suze"—Everett winces her way—"you may not want to say anything before retaining an attorney."

"An attorney?" she balks as if fear just lit her up from the inside. Although I'm sure that that fear has more to do with forking over her life savings to some shark more than it does evading a murder charge. "Oh, Essex, you know I can't afford decent legal counsel. You'll have to represent me yourself."

He shakes his head. "I'm sorry, Suze, but rule three ten prohibits a full-time judge to do so."

"Hear that?" Carlotta claps as if it brought her joy. "He's gonna let you fry for all the misery you've put Lot Lot through."

"That's not true." Lottie is quick to dispel the myth. "Not the part about letting you fry anyway." She makes a face because we all know my mother has been less than kind to her.

"Don't worry. You don't need a lawyer," I say, glancing back at the deputies swarming the scene. "You can say whatever you want. I'm not holding it against you."

"Hear that, Lot?" Carlotta swats Lottie on the arm. "He's gonna let her get away with murder! I bet he'd let you get away with murder, too. Who should we kill? Outside of our first choice, of course." She hitches her head to my mother. "But don't worry. It'll be just as fun to watch her squirm in all the hot water she's in." She turns to my mother. "No offense, Suze, but we'll circle back to you soon enough."

"We're not killing anyone," Lottie says before looking at my mother as well. "I'm with Noah. I want to know exactly what you were doing there."

"I could ask you the same thing," Mom fires back with all the rage in her face that she had when I first came upon the scene. I've seen my mother angry a time or two, but this is a hostility I'm not used to seeing in her.

"Start at the beginning," I tell her firmly and she lifts her chin in defiance.

"Fine." Her eyes close a moment. "I came out for some fresh air. It was getting hot and stuffy in there. And truth be told, I had one too many slices of that plum pudding." She takes a moment to glare at Lottie. "My tummy was hurting. Anyway, that's when I saw Lottie hovering over the body and then Carlotta showed up."

"How did you end up with a couple of bloody knitting needles in your hand?" I ask.

"Well, I plucked them out of the woman's chest," she shrills. "How else was I going to try to save her life?"

"Save her life or end it?" Carlotta hits back. "You're just feeding us all a bad batch of Lot Lot's plum pudding and you know it."

" Hey ." Lottie inches back. "I don't think I care for what you're likening my plum pudding to."

Carlotta waves her off before squinting at my mother. "I should've known those needles were for more than just making ugly Christmas sweaters."

"They weren't even my needles," Mom protests.

"And yet they fit like a glove," Carlotta is quick to lambaste her. "Cuff her, Foxy. Haul her away and throw away the key! Better yet, let Lot Lot bury it in one of her plum puddings."

"I'm not cuffing anyone," I say. "Mom, is there anything else to this story?"

"No, and it's not a story . It's the truth," she practically spits the words in my face. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to wash my hands before I head home for the night. If you feel the need to arrest me, you know where I'll be."

She stalks off, and I sigh in her wake.

"Speaking of angry mothers," Lottie winces, "I saw Ivy's mother having an all-out argument with the deceased. Noah, she's one of my prime suspects."

"Great," I mutter before glancing at Everett. "Your mother wouldn't happen to be here tonight, would she?"

He doesn't even quantify my remark with a smile.

Something hijacks Carlotta's attention as she cranes her neck toward the front of the building. "I'd better get going. Mayor Nash has given me until Christmas to sow my wild oats, and there's a naughty elf running around who's been playing hard to get from the moment I got here. And if anyone is having herself an elf this time of year, it's going to be me."

" Wait ," Lottie calls out just as Carlotta bolts from the scene. "There aren't any elves here." Her voice dwindles to a whisper as she looks my way. "Not any living elves anyway."

I nod her way. "Everett filled me in on it. Lottie, you know that any time that happens you're to call me posthaste. One of these days, I'd like to think we could get a step ahead of the killer."

"Yes, but can we get a step ahead of your mother?" she teases before lifting her shoulders a notch. "I'm sorry. I couldn't resist." Her body lurches as she grips her belly. " Ooh , these babies are kicking up a storm. I think they're getting hungry again. I'd better go scoop up some of my iced sugar cookies—and some of my plum pudding, too." She glances to the ground where a rogue slice of her plum pudding sits just a few feet from the body. "Maybe I'll skip the plum pudding just for tonight."

"I'll be right behind you," Everett says as we watch Lottie head into the ballroom. "I don't want her on this case," he growls my way.

"You think I do? And don't think I have the power to stop her from digging around either. I've met her."

"All right, I'll talk to Lemon." He closes his eyes a moment too long. "But I've met her, too." He shakes his head at the facility. "How's that thing going?" he asks, serious as stone.

That thing would be the investigative work he and Lottie hired me to do for them regarding the four children Everett discovered when he had us all take a DNA test to see if Lottie was his sister. It was a hell of night, but thankfully for all involved, Everett and Lottie aren't even remotely related.

However, Everett did discover that he's the father of four more children—that we know about. Each one is under eighteen, which might also explain why the genders weren't registered. For whatever reason, none of them responded to Everett's profile on the Family Tree Tracker app. And since they all registered under pseudonyms like RunswithScisscors and Mydogdidit, it was near impossible to get an ID on them.

But somehow I managed the impossible.

"I've got news," I tell him. "That's why I initially messaged you earlier. But when you said you and Lottie were headed out to dinner, I thought I'd let the two of you have a moment to yourselves. I've got my own snow blower."

He closes his eyes again. "Thank you for that. But I want to know everything you've learned. I want to know my children."

"I'll tell you everything I know. Just not here. I've got a killer on the loose and I'm hard-pressed to believe it's my mother. We'll talk in the morning. I have a feeling it's going to be a late night." I hold up the knitting needles in my hand as evidence.

We part ways and I can tell Everett is both shaken and relieved to hear the news.

Leave it to Everett to proliferate his seed into the world. Poor Lottie is going to have to deal with surprise children for the rest of her life.

I glance over at the body as the coroner photographs the scene. For one woman in Honey Hollow, life has come to an abrupt end.

Ivy speaks to her mother just a few feet away and I catch the woman openly glaring at the deceased. Just beyond her is my own mother, doing the very same thing.

If ever there was a nightmare before Christmas, this is it.

Instead of having no suspects to run on, it seems I've hit the motherload.