Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

P eople are crying.

People are documenting the entire fiasco on their smartphones.

And among it all, the air is thick with panic and the scent of fresh baked pumpkin pies right here in front of the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery.

Since the EMTs were already at the Gobble and Grab Turkey Trot for the festivities, they've descended on the scene in droves, not to mention the flashing lights of response vehicles that just arrived and the urgent shouts of law enforcement adding to the pandemonium.

Peter Honeycutt's lifeless body is surrounded by a flurry of activity as the medics try to revive him, but it's clear to anyone with eyes that he's long gone to that pumpkin pie-eating contest in the sky.

The once festive atmosphere is now filled with horror—not that it's stopped an entire horde of customers from storming the bakery.

I can't blame them; death makes me hungry too.

And through the sea of frantic faces, Aunt Cat and Carlotta spot me and make a beeline in my direction. I can't help but frown.

Those two are sort of bad luck charms in and of themselves.

"You work fast, Effie!" Aunt Cat practically shouts the words with glee and it takes a minute for me to put one and one together.

In this case, that name on my hit list just so happens to match the name of the man unlucky enough to choke on a piece of pumpkin pie. Not that anyone can choke on Lottie's pumpkin pie. It practically melts in your mouth upon contact, crust and all.

But that doesn't seem to stop my aunt and Carlotta from pointing an accusing—yet celebratory—finger my way.

Although at the moment, I'm the one choking as an entire backlog of words try to stream from my throat at once.

"Wait—you don't think… I didn't kill any?—"

Carlotta lifts a finger and cuts me off. "Gotta hand it to you, kid. Didn't think you'd take care of business so publicly, but hey, no one ever said you lacked style. So what did you do him in with? Cyanide? Strychnine? Some other cool yet deadly nine I don't even know about?"

I shoot her a look. "No, seriously, that wasn't me. I swear."

Aunt Cat shrugs over at Carlotta. "What can I say? She's a pro and pros never cop to a crime, especially not with a cast of thousands milling around." She pats me on the shoulder. "But that doesn't change the fact I'm proud of you. I can't believe I got the pleasure of watching you carry out a hit with my own two eyes. I can die happy now." She narrows her eyes over mine. "Don't even think about it, kid. I'm in my prime. Carlotta and I still haven't checked out half of the male strip clubs that Leeds has to offer. But when I'm pushing a hundred and can't remember my own name, you have my permission to stop in and feed me a slice of your poison pie."

"That goes double for me," Carlotta says while craning her neck in the direction of the deceased.

"Oh, good grief," I mutter at the thought of being pegged for a murder I didn't commit—not that it would be the first time. Long story.

Although I'll admit, I am a little relieved I didn't have to pump the guy full of bullets just to appease my uncle—and spare my own body from being riddled full of bullets in the process.

I guess death chose an opportune time to pay Honey Hollow a visit.

Life is funny that way—and so is death.

Before I can say more, I feel a furry nudge against my leg. I look down to see Watson, my adorable pooch—a blonde ball of fluff—wagging his tail and looking up at me with those big, trusting eyes that say feed me or else I'll poop in your shoe while you sleep .

I scoop him up and snuggle with him. Personally, I'm glad for the distraction, but I know his presence can only mean one thing—Cooper's not far behind.

And right on cue, there he is, Cupertino Lazzari striding through the chaos with a look of steely determination that makes my stomach do a flip. Fun fact: Cooper comes from a long line of mobsters, too. His uncle Luke and my Uncle Jimmy have been locked in a turf war for the better half of a century.

Detective Cooper Knox may be one of Ashford County Sheriff's Department's finest, but he happens to be my current complication.

As much as he makes my insides bisect with heat, I groan at the sight of him.

"Great," I mutter. "Just what I need right now."

Aunt Cat snickers. "Good luck explaining this one to your detective boyfriend."

Carlotta chuckles as well. "Looks like he's about to manifest a lot of questions!" She glances over at the body among us. "Come on, Cat. We'd better get over there to snap a few good pics before they cover the body." She grabs ahold of her bestie and they take off like a hurricane.

I set my jaw, trying to maintain some semblance of calm, but the closer Cooper gets, the more my knees start knocking and my heart tries to kickbox its way out of my chest.

Cooper's eyes lock onto mine, and I can see the storm brewing behind them.

Cooper is tall, with dark hair, even darker facial scruff, and a lean, mean body laden with muscles. His go-to look is a frown—mostly aimed at me—and he seems to evoke the attention of every single female in a twelve-state radius. He's lethally handsome that way.

This night just went from bad to worse, and I have a feeling it's only the beginning.

Cooper stops in front of me, his gaze soft yet questioning. "Effie, I just pulled up. What the heck happened here?"

I open my mouth to explain, but the words stick in my throat. How do you tell the man you're falling for that the dead man was your latest target?

Just as I'm about to tell him what went down, someone calls out, "Detective Knox, we need your help over here!"

Cooper's dimples dig in and out and my stomach explodes with heat again.

Darn hormones.

"We'll talk," he says, looking at me intently. "And I think we do have some things to talk about." He takes off as I try to figure out if his words are a quasi-threat or not.

Awe, heck, of course they were. I'm not lucky enough for them to be anything less.

In fact, I'm not lucky enough to make it to Christmas without being tossed into the back of a patrol car. And at the rate my luck is failing me, it will probably be closer to Thanksgiving—or even tonight.

Coop rushes off to where the EMTs are still working around Peter's lifeless body and I breathe a tiny sigh of relief. But only a tiny one just as a hand reaches through the crowd and grabs me by the elbow.