4. Lottie

LOTTIE

A pang of hunger hits me abruptly just as I pull out my phone.

“ Ooh , a crepe really sounds good right about now,” I groan as I crane my head in that direction where Suze, one of the employees from my bakery—and Noah’s mother, is serving up fresh crepes, right here in the conservatory of my mother’s B&B.

The baby shower, times four, is in full swing as dozens of women indulge in happy chatter and intermittent bouts of laughter.

“Darn tootin’, it sounds good,” Carlotta chirps. “That’s the best chocolate pie you’ve ever made. It’s delicious.”

“They’re crepes, Carlotta, not chocolate pie.”

“Potato, pooh-tato .” Carlotta juts her chest in that direction. “The line is twenty deep. Why don’t you pretend the twins are on their way and I bet they’ll let us at the front of the line.”

My hand lands protectively over my belly. “I will do no such thing.”

“And that’s why you’ll never succeed at life, Lot. Watch a master of her craft have a whirl at it.” She staggers that way. “ Ouch , my appendix!” she calls out while doubling over and holding her side. “I think I’m going to puke!”

Sure enough, the line clears out and Carlotta is already putting in an order for her crepes, and in the disorganized way she’s having them arranged, it sort of does look like a chocolate pie.

Mmm, that chocolate hazelnut filling sounds like a dream right now. And oddly, I’d like to garnish my crepes with candied pickles, too. And yes, they do exist. My mother gave my sisters and me each a bag for Christmas. They’re dehydrated, rolled in sugar, and perfectly spicy, too. I’ll have to ask where she got them. That six-pound bag didn’t last a day.

But regardless, I’ve got more pressing issues at hand. I shoot a quick text to both Noah and Everett, letting them know about the supernatural activity I just witnessed.

The two of them have made it clear as crystal that any time I see the dead crop up unexpectedly I’m to let them know asap. Noah is Lyla Nell’s biological father, even though she calls both Noah and Everett Daddy . It’s so sweet, it’s enough to melt all of the ice lining our little corner of Vermont.

I glance back at my phone, but neither Noah nor Everett has responded yet.

Odd.

But knowing the two of them, they’re too busy jumping in their trucks and hightailing it in this direction to fiddle with returning a message.

The three of us are very well aware of the fact when I see a ghost pop up on me like that, a homicide isn’t that far behind.

Come to find out, I’m something called transmundane, further classified as supersensual, which means I can see ghosts. Not all ghosts all the time, but when I do, especially a newbie like this one, it means they’ve been sent from the other side to help me solve a murder.

And oddly enough, the first time I usually see the ghost is just prior to the murder taking place. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to stop the murder before it ever takes place.

Only a few people know about my supernatural quirk, and as it happens, Carlotta, Charlie, and little Lyla Nell all share the very same supernatural talent, too.

Here’s hoping such dark investigations aren’t in Lyla Nell’s future. I’m sort of hoping that both she and Evie will want to take over the bakery one day.

Evie and her adorable blonde bestie, Dash, crop up in front of me and they both offer up a spontaneous hug my way.

“Mom, this is so much fun!” Evie gives my belly a little pat. Evie is her father, Everett’s, twin in female skin. She’s drop-dead gorgeous, from her long dark hair to her commanding blue eyes. “The twins are, like, totally set for life.”

“At least the first few years,” I agree.

“This is a killer party,” Dash says with a vigorous nod and I secretly hope it’s not in the literal sense. “I can’t believe all this free stuff. I can’t wait to get knocked up.”

“Please wait—at least until you’re married.” A laugh bubbles from me as I say it.

Her smile dissolves in a microsecond. “I thought I’d be married by now.”

“ Dash .” I startle with a laugh. “You’re only eighteen.”

Her shoulders bounce at the thought. “My mom was sixteen the first time she got hitched.”

“I don’t know.” Evie shakes her head at her bestie. “You’re giving off major second-wife energy. You’ll probably find an older man who’s been around the block with lots of money. And that way, you can both hate his first wife together in style.”

“Oh wow.” Dash looks pleasantly stunned. “I bet that would totally, like, bond us forever.”

They trot off and I’m left trying to figure out what just happened.

I’m pretty sure Evie was the voice of reason in that conversation in a roundabout, twisted way. And what exactly is major second-wife energy? Honestly, it sounds like something that has the power to keep me up at night.

I’m about to make my way to the crepe station and satisfy my itch for all things chocolate when I spot Francine Dundee and Carlotta going at it just shy of the dessert table. Lucky for me, Carlotta has a plate brimming with crepes rolled with chocolate hazelnut goodness so I head that way.

“You keep my husband’s name off of your lips!” Francine steps in so close she nearly tips the plate of crepes right out of Carlotta’s hand, so I do the only sensible thing I can—I swipe that plate from Carlotta before she has a chance to notice.

“Relax, you big bag of gas,” Carlotta hisses back at the woman. “I was just asking how he was doing.”

Francine scoffs at the thought. “Wouldn’t you like to know! You keep tabs on all the men in Honey Hollow, don’t you? It’s like you’re running a marathon and every man is the finish line!”

A chuckle bounces through me because, let’s face it, she’s not wrong.

Carlotta has been mighty friendly with just about every man of a certain age in this town. Well, at least she was up until December when my biological father, Mayor Nash, put his foot down. He basically put the kibosh on their bizarre open relationship and said it was him or the highway. Carlotta wisely chose him.

“You’re a regular saint, aren’t you, Francine ?” Carlotta smears out the woman’s name as if it were an expletive. “Except that your halo is so crooked it could double as a boomerang.”

A couple of women nearby begin to titter.

Wonderful.

The last thing Carlotta needs is an audience. That’s the exact environment she thrives in.

Carlotta cocks her head as she studies the long-haired granny before her. “You know what? I bet you’ve got a deep, dark secret or two rolling around in that walnut you call a noggin. And I bet it’s so dark and dirty, you’d sell your firstborn to keep the world from finding it out.”

Francine cowers and her face turns every shade of crimson—more or less confirming Carlotta’s dirty little secret theory.

“ Ah-ha! ” Carlotta slaps her thigh so hard it sounds like a peal of thunder. “I knew it! You’re hiding something dark and delicious, aren’t you? Well, not for long, Miss Prissy! You’ve insulted me for the very last time! I’m going to do a little digging, and I’m going to unearth whatever it is you’d rather stay buried.”

Ooh, this is getting good.

I shove a creamy, dreamy chocolate-filled crepe into my mouth and both twins give a light kick as if they were thanking me.

Carlotta lifts a finger, and before she can continue with her tirade, a couple of older women insert themselves into the mix. A short-haired brunette and a perky-looking redhead with lipstick that matches her fiery locks. Both women look about my mother’s age or a touch older, and both look perfectly delighted by Carlotta’s behavior as they break out into cackles.

“Oh, come now.” The short-haired woman pats Francine on the back. “Don’t you worry about Carlotta. She’s just teasing. Everyone knows a good woman like you has no secrets. At least not any worth the trouble.” She turns to the menace among us. “Carlotta, honey, trust me when I say, the juice ain’t worth the squeeze.”

Francine huffs at the woman, “You know all about my juice, don’t you?” She takes a moment to glare at the short-haired brunette. “You’re half the problem in this town, Ursula. And Carlotta is your bombastic bookend. Why, I should—” She stops cold and gives a quick glance around. “I think I need to cool off.”

The redhead nods. “I’d step outside the room if I were you. Because we both know if you don’t, someone might just end up dead.”