“Lottie”—she laughs—“fancy meeting you here. You’re not sneaking out for a quick smoke, too, are you?”
“No, I don’t smoke,” I say, stepping out into the warmth of the spring sunshine as it does its best to heat my body. The alleyway is filled with debris from various sets being torn down, strips of wood lie around in piles, and there’s a large waste receptacle to our left that smells of sour milk. There’s not another soul around. A perfect place to have a private conversation, and I intend on doing just that.
I head in her direction and end up standing right over a large drainage grate.
“Well, good,” she muses as she flicks her fingers and the cigarette nearly dislodges. “You just had that chickadee of yours. Smoking is bad for the baby. Don’t you pick up any of my nasty habits.” She gives a little wink before lighting up.
“You do have nasty habits, don’t you?” My voice shakes when I say the words, and as shocked as I am that I’ve said them, I can’t really blame myself for doing so.
Cluck Norris lands neatly onto her head and shifts from side to side as if he were getting cozy for the show.
“Go ahead, Lottie,” he says. “As soon as she admits to doing the deed, you can whack her over the head with one of those boards lying on the ground. Candace always said that turnabout is fair play.”
“Candace would be right,” I mutter.
“What’s that?” She squints my way as she takes a quick drag.
“Oh, Fern. Why?” My voice comes out in a shell of a whisper. “Why did you feel the need to do it?”
She chuckles and her entire chest bounces. “You finished that book I gave you, didn’t cha?”
“Death of a Cheater? Death of a Talk Show Host? You really do write what you know.”
She startles a bit. “I was just teasing about that last one. No need to get your panties in a wad. I’ll leave you and the boys out of it. I know how volatile things are about to get between the three of you. Why don’t you go get some of those delicious cookies you baked? Have some coffee to go along with it. You’ve got one heck of an emotional roller coaster ahead of you.”
“That’s what happened to you, isn’t it? That’s why you killed Candace.”
“BUGHAW!” Cluck Norris caws as his wings start flapping, but his talons have him very much tethered to the redhead’s scalp. “You could have finessed it a bit, Lottie. And where is Noah? I think we’ve done this backward.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” I pant.
“First time?” Fern shakes her head, her eyes still heavily squinted. “Wait a minute, what are you saying? Are you feeling all right?”
“I’m saying you killed Candace Cottonwood that day, and I have the evidence to prove it.” I pinch the file tightly between my fingers but don’t dare produce it just yet.
“Oh, this I gotta hear.” She tosses down her cigarette despite the fact it’s still as long as a finger and stomps it out.
“Listen up and listen good,” I say. “Because I won’t hold a single detail back.”
Her lips widen across her face, and it looks like an eerie smile of a circus clown.
“Go ahead, give it your best shot.”
“I will.” A smile of my own curves on my lips for the briefest of moments. “That day at the B&B during the Murder and Mayhem book signing when I mentioned that Kit told me that you and Candace went to college together, you grew cagey. You immediately threw Kit under the bus and pointed the finger at her because she was Zack Ross’ little sister.”
“Who cares?” She tosses her hands up. “I’m always cagey at an author signing. Half the authors there felt the exact same way. Ask your mother.”
“Yes, but they weren’t trying to pin a murder on someone else—you were. You were trying to pin this murder on Kit. In fact, you went the extra mile. You spilled coffee on her white T-shirt and just so happened to have a blue one on hand she could change into—a miraculous feat, considering you’re not nearly the same size. That was simply an example of you planting more evidence that didn’t point your way. And this file?” I produce it from behind my back and her body straightens at the sight of it. “This is what I’m most stumped about. You left it out on Candace’s desk. Noah, Everett, and I all saw it there when she gave us a tour of her office. But after you killed her, you moved it. Why? You could have planted more evidence against Kit. Why bury it under Kit’s desk calendar where no one would ever see it? Kit and I would both like to know the answer to that.”
A dull laugh rattles her chest. “Lottie, you do think you’re a detective, don’t you? But you’re wrong. All arrows point to that mousy girl. Kit is the one who did this. And if I were you, I’d run to that boyfriend of yours before Kit runs away. Now that she knows you’re onto her, she won’t stick around long.” Her eyes flit to the parking lot.
“Just like you don’t plan on sticking around long?”
Cluck Norris digs his talons into her hair.
“Ouch!” Fern does her best to inadvertently buck him right off, but she’s unsuccessful in the endeavor. “Geez. You’re really giving me a splitting headache with this nonsense, Lottie.”
“It’s not nonsense. I have proof.”
“All right, let’s hear the rest of it.” She folds her arms across her chest, her feet set in a defiant stance. “What in the world kind of proof do you have now?” She rolls her eyes to the sky as she says it.
“The picture in this file? It has the words you did this to my family scrawled across it. Every word was written in capital letters. The A
