Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

" Y oo-hoo ," Aunt Cat calls out as she and Carlotta head our way.

"It's time to make a break for it," I say as I turn to head in the opposite direction and Niki catches me by the sleeve. Darn sweater weather.

By this time, Lily and Suze are already halfway down Main Street and on their way to the bookshop where some smooth-talking charlatan is about to teach us how to get exactly what we want out of life with nothing more than our good looks—or good thoughts as it were.

The evening air is crisp and the sounds of holiday music and laughter fill the streets. Every shop, light post, and stop sign is strewn with leafy fall garlands, there are wreaths comprised of orange leaves on the windows and doors of every little shop as far as the eye can see, and the twinkle lights that crisscross overhead give all of Honey Hollow a magical appeal.

The Gobble and Grab Turkey Trot is in full swing, with stalls and tables set up along Main Street, each offering samples of Thanksgiving dishes that are already making my mouth water with their savory scents. And the crowds are out in full force because of it. Judging by the elbow-to-elbow room only on the cobbled sidewalks, I'd say all of Vermont has shown up for the yummy treats.

"What's your hurry?" Aunt Cat calls out as the two of them close in on us.

Both Aunt Cat and Carlotta are somewhere north of sixty. Aunt Cat dyes her locks a harsh shade of jet-black and Carlotta keeps her curls real with enough gray going on, it's safe to say that's the primary color.

They're both wrapped in matching black and white buffalo plaid flannel jackets, and that alone makes them look as if they belong to some weird farmhouse cult.

And another thing they have in common? Their penchant for mischief.

Speaking of mischief, my Uncle Jimmy just so happens to use my Aunt Cat as a carrier pigeon when it comes to giving me my new assignments. And if anyone knows how to take mischief to a whole new level, it's my uncle—and that level would be called a felony.

"I've got another job for you." Aunt Cat lifts a small white envelope my way and a shiver runs through me.

"Good grief, the fun never ends," I say as I pluck it from her. "I've got half a mind to quit, move back in with my parents, and call it a life."

Niki shrugs. "Yeah, but it'd be a short life. You're as good as dead, as is whoever's name is in that envelope if you decide to shirk your shotgun duties."

It's true. Should I back out of the contract I have with my uncle, it will be my name in some other hitman's envelope.

Face it, I'm bound to a life of crime and it's my own darn fault.

Me and my big ideas.

Technically, it was the big pink slip I got from the tech firm I was happily accepting a paycheck from that put me in this predicament. That's why I went to my uncle for help, and he gave me two choices: dance at his strip club or do a little dirty work for him on the side.

I should have strapped on my acrylic high heels and shook my booty with the best of them. Sure, the hours would be a killer, but the tips would keep me in cheeseburgers until the Grim Reaper shows up for that final hot date he's been threatening.

I always seem to make the wrong decision. It's the one thing I'm actually pretty good at.

"Go on." Carlotta nods to the envelope as she rubs her hands together to keep warm—that or because she can't control her excitement.

I quickly do as I'm told, and soon I'm staring at my uncle's sloppy handwriting.

"Peter Honeybutt?" I say just above a whisper. "Never heard of him."

"You mean Peter Honeycutt ? I wonder if he's related to Harmony?" Niki's eyes enlarge as she quickly whips out her phone and commits a half dozen acts of Google foo.

" Eh ." Carlotta shrugs. "I liked Honeybutt better."

"You would," Aunt Cat gruffs at her.

"Don't sound so judgmental." Carlotta is quick to elbow her bestie. "You do, too, and you know it."

"Do I ever." Aunt Cat elbows her back and the two of them cackle into the night.

Niki gasps at something on her screen—most likely with delight. She's been a huge supporter of my newfound position as an assassin. Sure my other siblings wouldn't agree with it if they were in the know, but Niki here has always been my biggest cheerleader. But that doesn't guarantee she'll bake me a cake with a knife in it when I'm in the big house.

"Peter Honeycutt is Harmony Honeycutt's ex-husband ," Niki practically shouts it out as if it were the correct answer on a game show.

Aunt Cat squints our way. "Who's Harmony?"

"Only the biggest, baddest manifester of dreams this side of the pearly gates," Niki says, threading her arm through mine. "Come on, ladies. Harmony Honeycutt is giving a lecture at the bookshop on how to make all of our dreams come true, and we're not going to miss it."

"I'll tell you how she made all of her dreams come true," Carlotta gravels as we start to head down the street. "She handed her husband his walking papers."

Both she and Aunt Cat cackle up a storm all the way to the bookshop.

If Harmony Honeycutt ever wished her ex was standing in line at the pearly gates, she might actually be cheering me on from the sidelines, too.

But as for Peter Honeycutt, he's a dead man walking.