23. Lottie

LOTTIE

“ V ivacious,” Orson Wingate says as he describes his late wife, and his voice softens a notch as if he’s savoring the word.

The casino here below Red Satin buzzes and brews all around us, but Noah, Everett, Carlotta, Petey, and I are seated at the blackjack table waiting with bated breath for whatever Orson might say next.

“Yes, that was Ursula,” he continues. “She was... well, larger than life.”

I nod, giving him the space to continue.

“She loved people,” he says, the words coming easier now as if the memories are a balm to his soul. “Couldn’t stand to be alone. She was married four times, you know. Each one different from the last, but none of them could keep up with her. Ursula was always two steps ahead of everyone else. Including me,” he says with a chuckle.

“Four times?” I raise a brow even though my mother had already clued me in on that on night one.

“Five including me.”

“Wow,” I muse. “She must have been quite the determined woman to keep finding new dance partners.”

Especially since she was dancing underneath the sheets with them.

“Oh, she was determined indeed.” Orson chuckles, though there’s a touch of bitterness in it. “She had this passion for life, for food especially. She even opened her own restaurant up in Honey Hollow. The Cozy Croon Café. I had suggested she call it The Velvet Spoon, but Ursula said it was too pretentious. She needed to lean in toward the cozy appeal of the town. And she was right. She was right about a lot of things. She and her best friend, Agatha Reed, got it going. Those two were inseparable, did everything together. At least in the beginning.”

“Agatha Reed,” I repeat, filing that away. Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure my mother introduced me to the woman the night I met Ursula. Yes, the redhead. She was the one who told me that Francine worked for Ursula. I lift a shoulder his way. “Sounds like they were more like sisters than friends.”

“They were,” Orson agrees, nodding slowly. “Agatha was the steady one, the anchor. She kept Ursula grounded, or tried to, anyway. Trying to contain Ursula was like trying to put out a fire engulfing a stick of dynamite. If you didn’t watch it, you could lose body parts. They bonded over their love of food. That’s how it all started—two women, one shared passion, and a dream to create something special.”

“Agatha sounds like a lovely person, too,” I say. “Is she local? I mean, if she’s local, I’m sure she’s helping you with the arrangements and she must be a comforting presence with your grief.” I do my best to keep my tone as light as a soufflé but my interest as sharp as a chef’s knife.

“Oh yeah, she’s local.” Orson hesitates, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he’s weighing his options. “She lives in Honey Hollow, just a few blocks from Ursula’s restaurant. Agatha tapes a cooking show from her home. She’s still whipping up dishes that could make you cry with joy.”

“A cooking show?” I can’t help but smile. “She must be quite the chef.”

“She is,” Orson says, a touch of pride in his voice. “And if anyone can tell you more about Ursula, it’s Agatha. Like I said, they were as close as two people could get. I mean, they didn’t always get along. Agatha has always wanted to open up her own place, too. And a few weeks back, they had a falling-out. I believe the words, ‘You were always handed everything,’ came from Agatha’s lips. But I’m sure they made up before Ursula’s life was stolen. At least I hope they did. They really did care for one another. Men would come and go, but their friendship remained the same.”

“Thank you for sharing that,” I tell him. “It sounds as if your wife was a lovely person as well.”

“She was,” Petey insists. “And we’ll be sure to pay Agatha a visit. It sounds like she could tell us more about Ursula than he could.”

I offer a covert nod to the poltergeist in agreement.

Orson ticks his head as we’re all dealt another round. “I’m sorry I ever brought up anything about Ursula and Aggie not getting along. Now that Ursula is gone, I guess some memories are best left in the past.”

I offer him a reassuring smile, though inside, my curiosity is burning bright. I have a feeling that whatever Ursula’s secrets were, Agatha Reed holds the key. And something tells me this cooking show is about to serve up more than just a few recipes.

Although it does make me wonder if whatever Ursula was cooking up with Agatha was bound to be a recipe for disaster.

Orson takes off after the next round and wishes us all a good rest of the evening.

“We should take off, too,” Noah says as he rises to his feet.

“Not so fast, Detective.” Everett motions for him to sit down and he does. “I’ve been waiting for a chance to wipe the floor with you. Let’s see what you’re made of.”

“I’m in,” Noah says. “After all, I’m playing with your funny money.”

“Ooh, this is going to be good.” Carlotta rubs her hands together. “I’ll take bets, five to one, Foxy leaves with his furry little tail between his legs.”

“There’s nothing little about me.” Noah doesn’t miss a beat as the cards are dealt.

“Although he is furry,” I add, pleased with my cards.

The hand begins, and before I know it, I’m holding my own against the table. Actually, I’m doing better than that. I’m winning.

And I win big time.

Carlotta grizzles out a laugh. “Looks as if Lottie Dottie here has the luck of the devil tonight.”

I roll my eyes her way. “Only you would associate the original red-hot sinner of the universe with luck.”

“He’s not lucky,” Petey points out. “And neither is anyone who follows in his footsteps.”

I take the pot three more rounds and Everett shakes his head my way. “You’re full of surprises, Lemon. A master baker, a wonderful mother, a killer detective, and a card shark like no other.”

“I have to agree with him, Lot,” Noah says. “Have you got any other talents you’re keeping from us?”

Everett cocks his head. “If she does, odds are she’ll be sharing them with me later tonight.”

Carlotta explodes with hoots and howls. “Sounds like the Essex Express will be leaving the station once again tonight. Be jealous, ladies,” she shouts to the crowd. “We’ve got a winner in the house, and she’ll be scoring more than a mountain of chips in the bedroom with the haughty, naughty judge among us. Lady Luck has officially changed her name to Lady Lot Lot!”

I may have won big, but that doesn’t change the fact I’ve got a heavy feeling about what’s about to transpire next in our quest to save Suze from her own foolish ways.

Because there’s one thing about luck that unnerves me.

Eventually, it always runs out.

And something tells me mine is about to take a nosedive.

But Everett proves me wrong. Not only does Carlotta head down to the Jungle Room, but Everett speeds us in that direction ourselves. It’s the Jeanie in a Bottle room for us, and Everett makes sure my every last wish comes true.

Looks like Lady Luck struck again.

Here’s hoping I can keep up the momentum.