I guess everyone has their price.

  Cluck Norris belts out his signature cry, and for a second there I think I’m seeing stars, and I am—his.

  “Let’s hurry with the suspect, Lottie,” he crows. “I haven’t had pizza since Candace fed me a slice. My beak is watering just at the thought of it.”

  I try to move past the two ditzes before me, but Cressida steps in my path.

  “Everything is a go for the next taping of Getting Candid with Cormack, and I expect you to be there with bells on if you want to take this haunted hovel off my hands.”

  My mouth falls open. “Cormack, you got the job?”

  “That’s right.” She lifts her head with a touch of pride. “You’ll be my very first guests in just a week. And once we find out that little beast of yours belongs to Essex, I’ll be in the prime position to comfort Noah.”

  “Say”—I lean in with a shiny new idea at the helm—“why don’t you give me your half of the B&B, too, Cormack? That way you can devote all of your time to your budding new career.” And with her wrapped up in that talk show she won’t have time to interfere with my investigation.

  “No,” she snips my way. “I can juggle three careers, Lynelle. I’m a modern woman in every capacity. Four careers if you count the fact I’m practically a ghost whisperer. I’ve got those monsters trained like a bunch of circus poodles.”

  Lea wields her machete. “Who is she calling monsters?”

  Thirteen leaps right onto my shoulder and I dip from the heft of him.

  “I’m no poodle,” he hisses. “I think it’s high time I claw her eyes out.”

  I shake my head just enough.

  With my luck, I’ll get pegged for it. And believe me, Cormack’s father has the money to make me disappear in the prison system until Lyla Nell is a senior—a senior citizen.

  Carlotta pokes her head out of the conservatory. “There you are, Lot Lot. Get in here. We’ve got a killer party to get to.”

  Cormack snorts. “Go on, Libra. I already know who the killer is. I’ve reported them to Sheriff Jack Turner. It’s just a matter of time before they’re arrested, and, of course, it will be a feather in the hat of Featherby Sleuths Investigative Services.”

  I try to make a break for it, but Cressida once again blocks my path.

  She snarls my way, “Remember, not only does your baby’s paternity test need to be brought to light, but so does your own. And this time? I want all three of your prospective fathers to be present. According to your real mother, that list includes Jimmy Canelli and Luke Lazzari. I’ll expect to see them there if you want my share of the inn back,” she says as she and Cormack head for the conservatory without me.

  “Wait,” I call out. “The three of them?” Jimmy and Luke aren’t exactly into taking orders from anyone, least of all me.

  The ghosts all swoop past me and into the room teeming with bodies.

  “Good luck, Lottie!” Greer howls. “We’ll be checking out the mystery selections. Winslow and I are always looking for new books to knock off the bookshelves.”

  Carlotta motions for me to head that way and I do, all the while scowling at her.

  “Did you hear that?” I say to Carlotta as I fast approach her. “Cressida just upped the ante. We need to get Jimmy and Luke to the studio in a week’s time to see which one is my daddy. And that happens to be the week of Everett’s trial.”

  Carlotta makes a face. “I don’t think they’ll show up, Lot. Mob men are a stubborn bunch in the event you haven’t noticed.”

  “You’re the one who got me into this paternal pickle. You’ll be coming with me when I head down to Leeds to plead my case.”

  “Fine, but first I’ve got my good name to clear.”

  Cluck Norris squawks as if beckoning us to follow him, so we do just that.

  The conservatory is filled to maximum capacity for tonight’s murderously good time. And lucky for Carlotta and me, our prime suspect is seated right by the door, so we don’t have to go far.

  I glance over my shoulder and see Noah and Everett watching me as Everett holds the baby. Everett picks up Lyla Nell’s hand and gives me a thumbs-up with it and my heart all but melts.

  “Did you see that, Carlotta?” I press my hand to my chest as I’m reduced to a puddle on the inside.

  “Yup. Little Yippy is on Team Mama. Now let’s get cookin’.” Carlotta pulls me to the table just as a small crowd scatters from around Fern Cranston. Fern’s crimson locks are fanned out around her face, giving her a soft look. She’s wearing a periwinkle leather jacket and a navy blouse underneath it, making her look far more diminutive than her heavyset frame, and she looks both polished and feminine.

  “That’s my Lot Lot,” Carlotta tells the redheaded woman with the unusually wide smile. “Always scoping the room out to find the cutest men.”

  Fern honks out a laugh. “Well, if it isn’t the killer mother-daughter duo. So glad you can make it. How are you ladies doing tonight?”

  “Wonderful,” I say as I take in the array of books she has laid out before her. “Is this your series?”

  “Sure is,” she beams. “Death in Vermont.” She lands a book with a lime green cover in my hands. “That’s my latest cutie. Death of a Cheater. I’ve only got a few copies left. It’s selling like hotcakes.”

  Carlotta clucks her tongue. “With a title like that, it’s bound to. I’ve been tempted to kill a few people myself.”

  “Carlotta,” I hiss. “You’re not doing much to help your case.”

  Mom pops up with a gold blouse that offsets her gold hair, and she’s glowing like the sun.

  “What a fabulous night!” she trills. “Fern, your books are a hit. I see everyone walking around with armloads of them. You know, both Carlotta and I are authors as well. I write beachy romances and Carlotta specializes in non-fiction.”

  “That’s correct,” Carlotta crows. “Wrote a whole book on how to snag a man. Lot Lot here inspired it.”

  “Ooh”—Fern wiggles in her seat—“I’d like me a copy of that book.”

  “You bet,” Carlotta says. “I’ll sign it for you, too. That little ditty landed me on the Vermont Best Seller’s List.”

  Mom takes a moment to glower at Carlotta because of it. It’s nice to see she’s moved passed the pain.

  And just like that, my mother’s face brightens on a dime. “You know what? I’ll get you a copy of my books, too, Fern. I’ll bring a whole pile over and sit right there at the table with you! Who knows? I might just sell a copy or two myself.”

  Fern looks affronted for a moment before shaking it off.

  “Sure, why not?” She shrugs my way. “I’m just about out of books anyway.”

  “Well I’ll take that last copy of Death of a Cheater,” I tell her just as Cluck Norris appears in a spray of golden stars.

  He lands square on Fern’s head, and I can’t help but cringe a moment. He did the same thing to Kit. It must be one of his adorable quirks, but I’ll admit, the sight is as off-putting as it is hilarious.

  “Has she confessed?” he clucks. “I stopped off at the dessert table and indulged in a few of your cookies, Lottie. That woman with the dark hair who was tending to them just admitted she was losing her mind. I’d fire her if I were you.”

  I suck in a tiny breath. Lily may not be able to see Cluck Norris, but she could sure as heck see those cookies disappearing all on their own as he gobbled them down. Here’s hoping Lily doesn’t commit herself anytime soon. I need her to hold down the fort until I can get back to baking.

  “Here you go.” Fern hands the book my way and I thank her, opening it quickly to the exact page she autographed for me.

  Dear Lottie, stay sane. Fern Cranston.

  It’s written in all capital letters and the A’s all look like tiny little pyramids. I’ve always wished I had decent penmanship. Everything I write looks like chicken scratch. Poor Lyla Nell will probably inherit that from me, among far more nefarious abilities.

  “So what’s new with the case?” Fern asks. “I see your foxy boyfriend is here tonight, and I was hoping he’d come to the table so I can chat him up.”

  “Oh?” Now there’s a shocker. Most suspects want to avoid Noah. “I’m sure he will.” And just when I all but begged Noah to stand back, the suspect makes a request for his presence. I’m not sure Noah will let me live this down.

  Carlotta nods. “Foxy is quick to do Lot Lot’s bidding. All she has to do is say jump and he says with or without my pants on. It’s not hard to see why she was the inspiration for my new book. I think she’s got a supernatural quirk that attracts men straight to her two best assets. She’s basically blood in the water when it comes to the testosterone sharks among us.” She turns my way. “Living with you has provided some serious research.”

  “You live together?” Fern asks with a touch of amusement. “Wow, I could never live with my mother. If I did, one of us just might end up dead. And here’s a hint, it wouldn’t be me.”

  “We’re heading in the same direction,” I tell her.

  Cluck Norris cockles—the rooster version of chuckling according to my sleep-deprived mind.

  “Ask about my Candace,” he clucks. “Something dark was afoot between them. I can feel it in my creaky feathers.”

  “Did you live with Candace?” My fingers fly to my lips because that’s not exactly the segue I was hoping for. “In college, I mean.”

  Fern blinks back as if I caught her off guard. “No, we weren’t roommates.” She squints my way. “How did you know that I knew Candace way back in college?”

  “Lucky guess.” Carlotta shoots me a look that suggests I stay out of her investigation. “That’s my Lot Lot.” She pats me on the back. “It’s as if she were born with a sixth sense. She always seems to know things about people. I think that’s what gives her an edge with the men. She grew up to be nothing but a bunch of brains and boobs, just like I knew she would.”

  She may not be far off on that one, at least not the boobs part.

  My boobs start to harden like bowling balls at the mention of them, and suddenly I have the urge to feed Lyla Nell.

  “Or you could have done a little research on me.” Fern shrugs. “I’m an open book. Get it? Open book?” She honks out a laugh at her own literary joke.

  “Actually, I think Kit mentioned it when she was briefing me on Candace,” I tell her. “You just so happened to be in the studio. She said the two of you were good friends and that Candace had you on the show quite often.”

  “She did, huh?” Her lips are frozen in a smile, and it’s an eerie look considering the fact her eyes are telling a not so happy story. In fact, they look downright ticked. “You know Kit had a little history of her own with Candace.”

  “She did?” Carlotta tips her ear that way. “What is it, Toots? Lay it on me.”

  “Kit is the killer!” Cluck Norris crows and flaps his wings like mad, all the while digging his talons deeper into Fern’s hair, but she doesn’t seem to mind. “I knew it. It’s always the innocent ones. Let’s have your boyfriend track her down and arrest her. I’ll stay here and finish up the cookies.”

  Fern casts a quick glance side to side before leaning in. “Kit didn’t get that job because she worked her way up in the ranks. She got it the old-fashioned way.”

  Carlotta’s jaw unhinges. “She slept with dirty old Burt Walker, too?”

  “Nope.” Fern shakes her head. “That was just Cormack from what I hear. Kit Knickerson was the little sister of Candace’s husband of three days, Zack Ross.”

  “You don’t say.” I lean in. “Did Kit and Candace get along?” I know for a fact I witnessed a tense exchange between the two of them.

  “Not really. The entire Ross clan was pretty hotheaded, so that might explain the rift. On the other hand, some say Candace knocked Zack off the boat and that’s why he got caught in the riptide and died.”

  “They were on a boat?”

  She nods. “Just between you, me, and the wind, I think murder was well inside Candace Cottonwood’s wheelhouse.”

  Carlotta narrows her eyes over at the woman. “How come none of the last names line up?”

  Fern lifts a finger. “Kit took her mother’s maiden name after their parents divorced—thus Knickerson. It was her way of choosing sides. And well, Candace changed her legal surname from Ross back to her maiden name, Cottonwood, because it was too painful to be a Ross without Zack by her side. Or so she said. Candace had a propensity to make whatever story she wanted fit her narrative. She was a pro at getting things to go her way.”

  I give a few solid blinks at the woman before me.

  “Fern, you don’t really think Kit killed Candace that day, do you?”

  “I wouldn’t let your boyfriend rule it out, but if I had to bet money, I’d put my dollars on that sleazy director of hers, Woody Hawthorne. The guy is as shady as they come and possessive, too. Boy, Candace knew how to pick ’em when it came to men.” She looks to Carlotta. “Now she could have used your book way back when we were in college.” Her lips twist. “So could have I.” Her expression goes dark a moment.

  “Fern”—I dip in to catch her gaze—“are you saying Candace had a boyfriend who cheated on her in college?” Noah just told me the cheat fell from a three-story frat house. And Cluck Norris mentioned that Candace once said something to the effect that no man was going to take advantage of her. I bet she wasn’t going to let them cheat on her either.

  Fern stares off past me with a hardened look on her face. “Let’s just say we both had a boyfriend who cheated on us in college.”

  I give a curt nod. “Welcome to the club,” I say a bit too morose as I reflect on my own louse of a college boyfriend.

  A crowd of eager readers pushes through the entry to the room, right along with my mother, and soon both Fern and my mom are signing books for the masses.

  I pull Carlotta to the side. “So Kit was Zack Ross’ little sister! She might have wanted revenge.”

  Cluck Norris materializes right on top of Carlotta’s head and she makes a face up at him.

  “Yeah, and that means Kit had a motive,” she snips. “But did you get a look at how angry she got when you mentioned the cheating college boyfriend? Maybe we should look him up and ask him a few questions?”

  “No can do. He’s dead.”

  “Dead!” Cluck Norris flaps his wings as his talons grip Carlotta by the hair.

  “Get off of me!” Carlotta thrashes about and does her best to pluck the squawking specter from her follicles, but he’s flapping away, digging in his heels as the two of them squawk and scream as if it were the newest dance craze.

  Soon, everyone in the entire room has pinned their attention on the two of them, or one of them as far as the rest of the human population goes.

  Noah and Everett come back my way, and I take Lyla Nell into my arms.

  She’s so excited to see me, her own arms are flapping like a bird’s. Her eyes are wide, and her mouth is moving.

  “Hey? I think she’s going to smile!” A breath hitches in my throat as I wait with anticipation, but the smile never fully materializes.

  “She’ll get there,” Everett says, wrapping his arms around me.

  Noah pins his eyes to mine. “Did you get anywhere with her?” He nods toward Fern’s table.

  I nod. “And then some. I’ll tell you all about it when we get home.”

  Kit Knickerson had a motive to kill Candace Cottonwood. Fern Cranston had a shady history with the deceased. And Woody Hawthorne is next up at bat.

  “Whoever killed Candace Cottonwood is just within my grasp, I can feel it,” I say before gazing over at Lyla Nell. “And this little one is just about to smile.”

  Noah hikes his brows. “Once that killer is put away, we’ll all have something to smile about.”

  Everett’s eyes stray to the lobby and the muscles in his jaw tighten. That hit the Canellis put on him is taking its toll.

  I won’t be able to smile until Jimmy calls off his dogs.

  Good thing I have an invite to extend to both him and Luke Lazzari. Maybe I can find a way to have him call off the dogs myself.

  But something tells me I won’t.

  Everett

  Lyla Nell is exactly one month old today.

  An entire month.

  It’s Sunday, and it seems all of Honey Hollow has come down to the bakery to celebrate.

  I hold the sweet babe in my arm and Lemon in the other as I land a kiss to my wife’s mouth.

  “A month,” I say as the revelry goes on around us. Lily is doling out chocolate chip cookies to any and everyone while Suze keeps the coffee flowing. Both my mother and my sister Meghan have shown up for the occasion. They’ve both been chomping at the bit to see Lyla Nell again, and I can’t blame them. I can’t get enough of her myself. “I can hardly remember life without her. It’s as if we needed her with us to start living.” And I mean every single word.

  Lemon nods, her eyes locked onto mine. “I feel the exact same way. It’s as if we were just rehearsing before, but now we’re really living.”

  Her eyes are swollen and red, and I can see the exhaustion written over her face. Heck, I’m feeling it, too—that darn rooster went off at five in the morning, not one hour after the two of us fell into a coma-like sleep, but none of that seems to weigh down our elation. I know I can shut off the supernatural sound effect by simply letting go of Lemon, but there’s not a ghost in the universe powerful enough to make me do that.

  “Everett”—a pained smile flickers on her lips—“I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but how are you feeling about the trial? It starts tomorrow.”

  I blow out a breath. “I’m fine. Fiona is a master in the courtroom. I have faith she can turn that jury upside down if she wants to. I’ve seen her pump a jury full of so much doubt they were left double guessing what day of the week it was.” Fiona might be a master, but she’ll have to be a magician to pull off the grand feat I’ve set before her. Fiona may have a strong case, but the DA’s case is stronger. They wouldn’t have taken me to court if they didn’t think they could win. This will be an uphill battle. It doesn’t look good for me, but I’ll be the last to vocalize it, especially to Lemon. “There is some good news.”