Yule Log Eulogy Read online

  As soon as the rush dies down, I take a moment to pause and take in the beauty of the fresh fallen snow that has transformed all of Main Street into a virtual wonderland. Honey Hollow is adorned in all its Christmas finery in every corner of our tiny town. Thick green garland with giant red bows is hung along each of the businesses down Main Street, and each and every door is covered with oversized wreathes.

  But I’m more than thrilled to be inside my cozy shop. Lily, Keelie, and I spent all of last week decorating every last inch of both the bakery and the restaurant adjoined to it, the Honey Pot Diner. There’s a walk-through between the bakery and the Honey Pot. The Honey Pot Diner has a large resin oak tree in the center of the dining room whose branches extend over the ceiling all the way into the café portion of the bakery, and each branch is intertwined with twinkle lights, giving it a magical appeal. The bakery itself is painted a butter yellow, and the furniture is a mix and match of any and everything, painted in every shade of pastel. Garland is strung up along the counters, and I’ve got a stocking hung with each employee’s name on it. Keelie hired an artist to come out and paint mistletoe in the corners of the windows, and it looks adorable and inviting from out on the street.

  The chime on the door goes off, and Carlotta, Mayor Nash, an unfamiliar yet friendly looking man, my mother, and Chrissy Nash, the mayor’s ex-wife, stroll in, each one of them wearing a bright red Santa hat. Mayor Nash aka my biological father is a notorious philanderer, thus the unpleasant parting between him and Chrissy.

  Chrissy is about my mother’s age, and they share the same blonde hair and mischievous blue eyes. Just seeing the five of them together sets me on edge. It’s an odd group if ever there was one.

  “Lottie Dottie!” Mayor Nash is his usually jovial self. We share the same caramel-colored hair, and if I squint hard enough, I can see a touch of myself around the eyes, but other than that I’m a carbon copy of Carlotta. “I’ve got a gift for Lily and you.” He pulls a couple of Santa hats out of the tote bag in his arms. “We’re passing them out at all the shops up and down Main Street today.”

  “Well, thank you.” I promptly smash mine over my head and Lily does the same.

  Mayor Nash lets out a cheery ho, ho, ho. “And on behalf of the Honey Hollow City Council, I would like to ask if you’d bake some goodies for the annual Honey Hollow Christmas Party and Tree Auction. It’s being held at the Jolly Holly Tree Lot this year, and all proceeds go straight to the children’s hospital.”

  “It would be my pleasure,” I say, and I swear I hear Lily growl at my enthusiasm to accept the offer.

  Mom bounces with glee as she pulls the older man by her side toward her.

  “Lottie, I want you to meet Eugene Alexander, better known as Flip. He was your father’s dear friend, and he just so happens to be currently dating a dear friend of mine.” She hitches her head toward Chrissy.

  “Oh.” My eyes widen as I look to Mayor Nash. I can only imagine this must be awkward for him.

  Mayor Nash gives a jovial laugh as if he could read my mind. “No worries, Lottie. I’m perfectly fine with it. Flip and I go way back as well.” He narrows his eyes at Flip as if he were anything but perfectly fine with the arrangement.

  “Nice to meet you.” I extend a hand to the gray-haired man with a pleasant smile. His entire face breaks out into a series of comma-like wrinkles as he smiles my way. He looks kind and friendly, but mostly I’m warmed by the fact he knew my father.

  “Nice to meet you, Lottie. I happened to be at the firehouse the day Joseph found you squirming over the floor. I suppose I should say, it’s great to see you again.”

  A gentle laugh bounces through me. “And under better circumstances.”

  “And with more clothes on,” Carlotta adds.

  Mayor Nash tips his chin up. “I want to invite you all to the official Honey Hollow Christmas tree lighting ceremony this Thursday night, and I wanted to see if you wouldn’t mind baking up a little something for the ceremony.”

  “No,” Lily answers for me.

  “Lily.” I nudge her with my elbow. “Yes, Mayor Nash, I would be thrilled to bring something. Just tell me what you’d like and how much, and I will be there with jingle bells on.”

  A hearty laugh bellows from him. “Just a few dozen treats for the city council. The local schools will be hosting a bake sale that night in hopes to raise funds for fancy new Smart Boards. So no need to feed the entire town.”

  “That is perfectly manageable.”

  “Suit yourself.” Lily shrugs. “But I saw that note you pinned up in your office. You’ve got Mistletoe Mania, the library staff party, Redwood Realty’s office party, and Christmas Eve at your mother’s.”

  My mother and Chrissy exchange a quick glance before Mom clears her throat.

  “If you don’t mind tacking on just one more thing…”

  Lily scoffs. “She does.”

  “I don’t,” I quickly correct Lily who waves me off as she heads to the register to take care of a couple of customers that just walked in. “What is it? Are you having a Christmas party with your horticulture club? Your book club? That writers’ group you belong to?”

  “None of the above.” Mom’s voice dips into its lower, throatier register— never a good sign. “Topper is hosting an event called the Candy Cane Mix and Mingle Jingle. It’s strictly for single men and women of a certain age looking for love.”

  Chrissy leans in. “Nothing funny.”

  By nothing funny, she’s referring to the threesomes he was propagating just a few weeks back.

  “Good to know. Where is this Mingle Jingle Dingle happening? Or do I want to know?”

  Mom’s shoulders shimmy back and forth. At this point I’ve related the shoulder shuffle to somewhat of a ten on her excitement Richter scale.

  “At Royce Bentley’s estate up in Fallbrook.”

  “Royce Bentley? That’s Cressida’s father.” And Cressida is one of the top suspects on my list. I don’t care if she was Larson Rosenberg’s best friend, or how intimately she’s acquainted with my favorite judge. She’s not getting a free pass from me. “I’ll be there with all the desserts you could hope for.”

  “Perfect. It’s next week. I’ll give you the details as I get them. Right now I need to warm up with a cup of your peppermint latte.” She and Chrissy mosey on down the counter, as do Mayor Nash and Flip, to put their orders in.

  “Not so fast,” I say to Carlotta and she sneers at me as if she’s got a secret, and apparently she does. “Who’s this company you’re hosting at Nell’s?”

  She makes a face. “It’s none of your Honey Hollow beeswax, but since I’m a kindhearted person, I’ll offer up the info voluntarily. One of my old besties, her name is Cat. If you’d like to meet her, you can. We’ll be at the Jingle Mingle until we tingle, if you get what I mean.” She gives a hard wink. “How’d it go last night with the judge? Did he frost your cookies or whatever else you kids are calling it these days?”

  “No. Definitely not. I’m married to Noah—and I’m having his child, remember?”

  “No, you’re not. Meg told your mother and me it was all a big scam to keep him on the right side of the soil.”

  I gasp. Note to self: Kill Meg. Carlotta was the one soul who I wasn’t going to let in on my little secret because God up in heaven knows she couldn’t keep one to save her soul.

  “Do not breathe a word lest you have his blood on your hands,” I’m quick to threaten her. “And don’t think I’m not onto you. You’re deflecting. Who else is holed up with you at Nell’s place?”

  Her eyes bulge for a moment. “No one.”

  “Lily said there were two women.”

  “Lily was seeing double last night because you overwork her.”

  “Fair enough.” I’m willing to play Carlotta’s game but only for so long.

  She’s about to scoot to the register herself when she pauses to squint in my direction.

  “So, what do you think of that case that boyf
riend of yours is taking on? And don’t go giving me that he’s not my boyfriend, I’ve got a husband business. I’ve got eyes, and I can see for myself what’s going on. Trust me, Lottie Dottie. I’d be the last to judge you. Lord knows I’ve engaged in my own illicit hanky-panky on the side.”

  “Would you never call me that again? I don’t care if Mayor Nash finds it endearing. That’s one nickname I don’t care to propagate. And you’re darn tootin’ you’ve engaged in your fair share of illicit relationships. You slept with Mayor Nash while he was still married to Chrissy!”

  “Now don’t you get all high and mighty with me, missy. If it wasn’t for my lack of better judgment, you wouldn’t be standing here with the privilege to argue with me.”

  “Fine. I’m guessing you’re talking about Everett presiding over one of those Canelli criminals.”

  “You bet your chocolate-stained apron I am. It’s all in the news. It’s in the actual newspaper, too, not that anyone your age knows what that is anymore. And if you ask me, that little stunt at the courthouse is going to put a mark on his head.”

  “He didn’t choose the case. That’s not how it works.” I think. “And anyhow, Everett isn’t afraid of anything.” I am. That note I saw last night sends a brand new shiver up my spine.

  “Well, he should be. And you should be, too. If you’ve got any pull with that man whatsoever, you’ll make sure he goes easy on that Canelli kid. It’s bad enough the two of you helped put Connie away. It’s a wonder you’re still alive.”

  “They broke her out of prison in the event you didn’t hear. That’s all water under the Canelli criminal canal. And I refuse to yield to their intimidation. Everett has a job to do, and I support him one hundred percent. If they find that Canelli person guilty, I’m sure Everett will pass down a fair and equitable judgment.”

  Her eyes enlarge for a moment, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think she were trying to say something to me with that deranged look she’s tossing at me.

  “Have it your way.” She heads down the counter and puts in an order with Lily just as a man in a dark suit strides in.

  He looks relatively clean-cut, and his cologne hits me before he ever gets within range. He walks right up and inspects me for a moment.

  “Are you Lottie Lemon?”

  I blink back my surprise.

  “Why yes, I am.”

  “Nice to meet you.” His dark eyes bear into mine, and it feels intrusive, dangerous. “Tell Judge Baxter I said hello.”

  He turns around and heads out.

  “I didn’t get your name,” I call out after him, but he’s already back in the snowy street.

  And somehow, I think that was the point.

  Chapter 5

  Business at the bakery was brisk right up until closing.

  Noah offered to pick me up, but I let him know Lily didn’t mind giving me a ride. What I didn’t tell him was that she was giving me a ride to Nell’s old house.

  Before Carlotta left, she bought two more Yule logs. And that more than anything else managed to rouse my suspicion. Sure, Carlotta likes my cakes, but she already had a dozen from the party. And my Yule logs are far from a single serving confection. We’re not talking cupcakes here, folks. Each Yule log can feed up to a dozen people.

  It’s dark out, and snow is banked high on either side of the walkway that leads up to Nell’s humble home. This might be the ritzy end of town, but Nell’s split-level house isn’t interested in impressing anyone. Its plain white exterior boasts only of an upper level balcony off one of the guest rooms.

  I remember coming here as a kid with my bestie. Keelie and I always made sure to haul one another along to our respective family get-togethers, so I have just as many memories here as I do anywhere.

  The house is brightly lit inside as I make my way to the porch and give a brisk knock to the door.

  The sound of footsteps quickens in this direction, then the distinct sound of whispering follows suit.

  So she really does have a guest. I believe she said it was one of her old best friends named Cat.

  The wind picks up, and a mean shiver runs through me.

  “Carlotta? It’s me, Lottie.” I pound over the door once again. “Do you mind opening up? I’m freezing my tushie off!” It’s dead silent on the other side. “I’ve got a fresh platter of shortbread cookies!”

  The door swings violently open, only to expose me to a beady-eyed version of the woman who bore me.

  “So, you came to spy on me after all, did ya?” She’s quick to snatch the cookies from me.

  “Relax,” I say, making my way inside where it’s warm and toasty. The walls are all painted a warm shade of yellow and, truth be told, this was the inspiration for the soft yellow walls in the bakery. I glance in the living room to find the coffee table cluttered with candy wrappers and soda cans. A partially eaten Yule log sits in the center with three forks settled around it.

  Three? Interesting.

  “Where is she?” I ask.

  Carlotta straightens like a pin. “Where’s who?”

  I take a moment to squint over at this wily version of myself. “Your bestie. Cat, was it? Unless, of course, you can’t keep your lies straight anymore.” I smear that last part out with as much sarcasm as I can muster.

  She sucks in a quick breath. “Fine. I’ll interrupt her nap, but you’ll owe me twenty bucks for doing so.” She sticks her fingers in her mouth and lets out a sharp whistle. “Calling bratty Catty. I’ve got a stubborn kid out here who’s about to hand over a hot bill with a picture of Andrew Jackson on it.”

  A rumbling sound comes from the kitchen, followed by the clatter of dishes, then the very distinct sound of—

  “Carlotta?” I freeze solid. “That sounds a lot like hoof beats.”

  And holy mother of all things good, a supernatural wonder prances right out of the kitchen as a magnificent reindeer whose fur sparkles like a stray constellation of stars and antlers that illuminate as bright as the sun as if they were lit up from the inside.

  “Lottie.” He sways from side to side as he makes his way to the center of the living room.

  “Rudolph?” I watch as he saunters sloppily in a circle before sniffing around at the Yule log taking up real estate on the coffee table. “Why are you acting funny?” I gasp. “And why do you reek of liquor?” My mouth falls open as I look to Carlotta.

  She shrugs at the sight. “Don’t blame me. He got into my whiskey. And from the looks of it, he’s got a mad hankering for all things Jack Daniels.”

  “Oh my God, you plied him with liquor?” And then a rather abrasive thought hits me. “Wait a whiskey pickin’ minute! The dead can’t eat or drink. This makes no sense.”

  She makes a face at the sloshed specter. “Then how do you explain that?”

  I glance over to find Rudolph noshing away at the Yule log before him, and sure enough, each time he swallows, a spasm of light shoots down his throat as it works its way to his stomach.

  “Oh my stars above Honey Hollow,” I say, taking a few cautious steps in his direction. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

  Carlotta grunts, “That you’ll have to up your production of the tasty treats. Now that you’ve got the dead hooked, there’s no keeping up with the demand.”

  “Yes, but I’m guessing the dead don’t pay as well.” I stomp my way over to the supernatural sight. “Are you insane?” I hiss at the oversized creature. “First of all, chocolate isn’t good for you.” I pause a moment, just trying to digest my own useless logic. “And second of all—” My God, I don’t have a second point to make.

  Just as I’m about to slog my way through it, a woman steps out of the back bedroom in a fuzzy pink bathrobe, her hair wrapped up in a white towel. She looks older, about Carlotta’s age. Her eyes are the shade of a hot cup of coffee, heavily outlined in dark kohl, and her lips are painted a bright shade of holly.

  “This the kid?” She saunters over with a smile rubber banding over her face. “
Nice to meet ’cha.” She extends a hand. “Caterina Canelli.”

  My own hand freezes midair. “Catta who?”

  She barks out a laugh while Carlotta moans and groans. It’s obvious now what she was trying to keep from me.

  “Don’t worry, kid. I ain’t gonna bite ya.” She chomps the air between us before letting out a riotous cackle.

  “We’ve got a funny one on our hands, don’t we?” I say it mostly to myself. “So, why are you staying with Carlotta? I mean, rumor has it you have a heck of a lot of family in the area.” Too much family for both my liking and law enforcement.

  She lifts a dark brow in amusement. And just as her mouth opens to answer me, her gaze shifts to the coffee table and she lets out a startled cry.

  “Holy Mary and Joseph!” She jumps a good foot away from the scene of the chocolate crime. “What in the heck is happening?” Her voice rises to a frightening octave.

  Both Carlotta and I follow her gaze to see Rudolph gulping up the scrumptious delight faster than you can say catatonic Canelli.

  A rather nasty and diabolical thought comes to me.

  “That’s just a ghost.” I shrug it off as if it were no big deal.

  Both Rudolph and Carlotta swing their eyes my way.

  Cat takes a measured step in my direction. “A what?”

  “A ghost. The place is crawling with them.”

  Carlotta gags. “Is not! There’s just one, and he’s a harmless as-can-be caribou who’s looking to catch a killer.”

  Now it’s Cat’s turn to gag as Carlotta slaps a hand over her mouth.

  “It’s too late, Carlotta.” I take a moment to gloat. “You’ve already let the poltergeist out of the bag.”

  “Did you say poltergeist?” a female voice cries from the hall and out comes an all too familiar face running with her hands in the air as if the aforementioned law enforcement were after her—oh, wait. They are.

  “Connie Canelli?” I bark over at her, and her features wrinkle up in horror. “I’m placing you under citizen’s arrest!”

  Cat pulls Connie in and sneers over at me. “We’re not afraid of your empty threats, and we ain’t afraid of no ghosts.”